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Category Archives: Fiction
Watering the plants
He pulls the sliding door across and steps out onto the balcony. His bare feet are warm on the tiled floor. He puts his hands on his hips. This bloody summer sun – his girls have been fried. He picks up the two plastic bottles he keeps by the door and takes them inside. At [...]
Absolutely
She turned away from me, like it was her failing, while I lay on my back. It was also me who got up first, collecting my singlet and briefs from the floor on my way to the bathroom. The light, the room’s whiteness, was merciless as ever.
When I returned, she was gone, clattering around with [...]
Keith – Novel extract
While the barman pulled my beer, I looked around. Nearby, waiting to be served next, was a large man in a polo shirt and shorts, fingering his wallet. The bar lights made shadows on his face and chest, accentuating his size. On the side of the bar was a door, obviously to the pokie room. [...]
For modern admirers – Still Life, Breakfast with Glass of Champagne and Pipe
Detail of Still Life, Breakfast with Glass of Champagne and Pipe by Jan Davidsz. de Heem. Image courtesy of Liechtenstein Museum.
Mid breakfast, pomegranate opened. Lemon peeled, bread roll broken.
For modern admirers the painting simply is, it is as if it never not was. At no time in history were we without this. Contemporary eyes can’t [...]
Notebook 23.11
The red ‘do not walk’ glyph stops flashing and stays lit. The cars start again. He stops before the curb with all the others, out of the sharp morning sun, in the cool shadow of a tall, nameless building. He does this every day – either he makes the light just before it goes green [...]
The boxer
Lights. Lights in darkness. Is this death? Or is it birth? Birth and death are the same experiences. Face, fingers. Get up. He gets up and looks steady on his feet. The face looks at him, looks in his eyes, searching. “OK? You OK?”. He says yes not because he is, and not because he [...]
Notebook 2.11
Winter morning. He wears an old jacket, so old that the white has turned yellow. Wester Suburbs Squash Team is written across the back. Silver hairs curl out of the neck. As young women pass, his head drops, as though ashamed, his mouth hangs agape and he stares. His skin is tanned from years, decades [...]
“I am working everyday to change my behaviours.”
She emphasised ‘behaviours’, the word not of her own choosing.
Untitled 7
Although we were on opposite sides of the planet and my only contact with him was through a screen, on a page, in my thoughts, I followed him. I wanted his madness. Not because I thought it was cool or hip or looked fun. Because of what he did with it. It made him special, [...]
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