Connecting Dots

*** (a poem) *** white finger tips press over bumps smears orange dust on Forgotten Road red circles are Family Camps in Nature they move on together Black History gone …

Grit

Grit on the classroom floor. Overflowing bin. Usual teacher’s crap everywhere, I stuff it aside to sit. The kids are pretending to work and I’m pretending to care about them being …

30 Word Stories

This made me think about the difference between microlit and poetry and I came to the conclusion that microfiction is like a skit or a scene proforma, but in written form.

Dear Mr Hemingway

Dear Mr Hemingway, We thank you for your submission, and for your service to your country. Our publication is currently not looking for stories based around war as we believe …

Tsundoku Confessions

I was recently laughed at when entering a Zonta book sale because I dragged an empty suitcase behind me and left it under a table while two elderly ladies monitored …

Seeing Daylight

He walks me through the doorway to a brightly lit room with a white tiled floor. I am made to sit in what feels like a leather chair – old, …

The Wandering Wonderer

Reggie woke with the sun soaking his tired legs and Mar had left a plate of toast with jam and a coffee urn on his bedside table. He sat up …

Discombobulated

The elevator light blinked green as it rose up the wall like an intruding vine. Lana had one heel on the swivel chair and one stuck to the carpet on …

It’s Just That

The uni trimester ended while leaves still clung to the trees. Betsie found herself missing the crunching sound of the fallen leaves as she travelled home, the audible sound of …

The Vase

I fog the window with my breath, smudge it with my hand when I see her coming down the path. She’s all but six foot and her hair is as …

The Cliff

He drags her by the feet. Red dirt stains her face. She tries to scream, I can see because the veins in her neck pulse and her chest heaves, but …

Five Fingers

Nestled in the Hunter Valley lies a town, dotted with quaint tea shops in heritage listed buildings, threaded together by a brook that occasionally babbles too high. Feel the energy, …

Train Goes By

If you look past your face’s reflection in the train window, it’s only a glimpse but takes a lifetime to see the dry, hoof-beaten straw for grass, and how it …

The Affair

He unwrapped the sheet from her ankle and she eased from the side of the bed and leaned over the pearl white dresser. He could now see her body with …

Going Under

I’ve been preparing food all morning, even though I’m Nil By Mouth. All four of my wisdom teeth will be ripped out while I’m under. That’s why I must prepare …

A Man Walks In To A Bar

A man walks in to a bar and pulls a stool out from under the bar bench of the old Light-horseman Inn. The barmaid is a woman of forty-two, bearing  …