"Boomers are Red and Fliers are Blue" by Donna Quinn

In Australia's arid red centre, nomadic robot kangaroos dominated. Among stands of mulga carpeted beneath with yellowtops and mulla-mulla, their hides of umber, ochre, blue or grey reflected the bright hues of the soil as they traveled.

Dust stirred as a bus halted beside a small mob of robot roos. In an instant, each kangaroo had activated an internal switch, flicking it from "regular" to "tourist" mode. Books, laptops and "Percy Platypus" comics (a favourite with the joeys) were put away, the chess set was hurriedly shoved under a clump of spinifex, and the kangaroos got ready to look cute and doe-eyed. The people could never know they were more than dumb animals.
There was some commotion from the bus and finally, the doors opened. The tourists were upon them, a wash of vividly-coloured, bizarre parodies of regular humans. They possessed without exception a cycloptic box called a 'camera' that whirred and clicked, flashing like drought-breaking lightning. One woman raised her camera and the sudden light, familiar to the veteran roos, startled the joeys. What was worse than the box was the secret language of these monstrous creatures. Most animals, tall trees, gorges, and just about anything else, was discussed in reverent tones of "oooh" and "ahhh", and "get a shot of that one dear". The word "awww" was reserved only for the smallest and cutest animals, and the robotic joeys typically got an earful of it.

Acrylic on illustration board, 28 x 45 cm. 2006.