Write, because something beautiful always breathes when you do. You already know the world is changing and being a writer is difficult. Breathe deeply. That’s one of the only things you’ll have to do on your own. None of your friends have any idea what writing is like, so both your privacy and writing won’t…
Your vision has slipped. You didn’t notice it at first—it’s hard to notice things when they’re gradual—but it’s as if someone snuck into your line of sight every night and sanded down the horizon until its edges were soft and staticky, sharp lines vibrating. The distance, now, is more distant. You made the mistake of…
I have always been drawn to the coast, even if it hurts, even if everyone says it is no longer safe. Even as years pass, as I feel myself changing, no longer the child I was, I am pulled back to that place, the stretch of pebble and mud on the new shore between Alexandra…
Clarissa had to touch everything, and it had become a problem. A hydra-headed problem that grew worse by the day. It reared one of its heads in the china shop, and I looked quickly for a sword. All I had were words. ‘Clarissa, careful!’ I said. ‘It’ll break.’ Mute flashes shot off the glazed black…
A car honks for you in the driveway. You tell Dad you’re hanging out with friends. ‘Nice day for it,’ he yells, hammering away at something in the backyard. Dads don’t ask follow-up questions, not like mums do. You slide into the backseat behind Evie and Pania, your best mates. Loose bobby pins are scattered in…
Ori is born on a Tuesday. I tell myself that people do this everyday, and the thought steadies me. Cara catches him as he slides free from my body, scooping him up to rest in my arms. He is slippery and purple. His face is pinched. He has fine, dark hair slicked to his head.…
I moved out on a Thursday. As I packed the last box in the trunk of my hatchback, the sun greeted me as if it was our last encounter. I turned back to take one last look at the house I convinced Noah to buy with me. But somehow it was me who was leaving. …
Arthur lives at the edge of town. His house is rife with infestation, with weeds and aphids and pests of all varieties. The house is tucked away by the end of the court. It is the scourge of your street. * Arthur’s front yard is full of birds. He used to tend vegetables there, ripe…
i) Did you know, she said, There’s a theory our universe might exist inside a black hole? Really? he replied. Pass the salt. The flurry of salt he shook onto the already seasoned steak flaked the surface like snow. When he sliced the meat, she felt it, almost. A slit down her spine. Her meal…
‘Are you going to this book club thing, or not?’ The husband swats onions around the pan. ‘I’ll probably be the oldest, straightest one there. God, how depressing. Maybe I won’t go.’ But the wife is pulling on boots, looking for her handbag and scoffing a cheese cracker. ‘But you’re not straight,’ he gloats. ‘Well…