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Dear Janet
I wrote this little ditty after a friend in New Zealand told me a touching story about her neighbour Janet, who was battling a terminal illness and wanted to make …
A Fist Full of Tears
A kid sits at the spitsplit from the family(with no idea of the convorunning rampant behind him) hepicks up two stickscontemplates his next dig,lines in the sand draw the perfect …
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 …
The Closing Of A Book
Shift your life from a peasant
of wisdom to nirvana’s next top model…
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 …
Flash Fiction Challenge
If you would like to be a part of the fun, you can join here. If you would like to see what The Literary Gangster has been up to on Twitter, you can here.
Sketching Sunsets
I’m sketching sunsets Paint colour schemes in my mind I, opaque prism, Boundary reflecting light, Etch lead shavings with my hand.
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 Wanaruah country 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, dark …
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 …
