March 24, 2020

Rick shoo-ed Julie towards the door, passing the coffee in her favourite cup and—with a moment’s hesitation—her pack of cigarettes. ‘You go take a break, Jools.’ A slight sheen glistened on her brow.

   ‘I will…when we’ve got this feast ready to go.’ Looking back at Ric...

February 15, 2020

I grieve a blighted country

A land of franking credits *

Of toxic sexist comments

Of greedy lying twits

I grieve their cyber-fake and fears

I grieve the lost good name

The wasted young, the working poor

The howls of: shame shame shame

I’d love a cooler country

A land of visiona...

February 15, 2020

Sitting on the edge our bed, you stared at your iPad. 

   'What?’ you said. 

   ‘I said…can you give me a lift?’ 

   ‘Yeah, yeah. Just don’t hold me up.’

   I paced around. Should I say something? Better not. My intestines churned; lava r...

The New Normal

is quiet --

Quiet as the eucalyptus forest 

after the firestorm,

after the loss of koala, kangaroo, birdsong,

and after the Murray-Darling shrivels, shrinks, subsides --

its once-languorous vein stretches tangled and dry.

Instead, upon its heat-cracked bed, 


So, at the last minute, Scottie our PM, graciously bestows his benevolence upon his subjects: a bulk fire-fighting package. We're talking: $$$, aircraft and personnel, all dispensed without any consultation or planning. Thousands of untrained army reserves promised ---...

January 2, 2020

“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn’d / 

Nor hell a fury like a woman scorn’d.” - William Congreve

Brandishing the newspaper, Medea swept down Melbourne’s grungy Gertrude Street on that hot sticky December morning. She could think of a lot of things she’d like t...

A Winter Selection of Short Stories

On Saturday October 12th, the Belgian Beer Cafe at Southbank set the scene. Storytellers from the Melbourne World Writers' Collective took the spotlight and story-loving enthusiasts came along to celebrate our great new anthology.  


September 22, 2019


“Another child abducted. This time murdered. They found her in the woods. Been interfered with. And those others, one stuffed down a well and another in a cupboard. Awful. Imagine doing that to them,” the paper rustled violently in their grandmother’s hands.


September 1, 2019


At age three, in a secret corner, your small hands danced out magical stories. Things went missing — your sister’s favourite toy, a favourite family photo… your treasures…

            Crouching low, I tapped lightly on your whitened k...

July 28, 2019

Our new city-shiny butcher is a rabid self-promoter, conning the locals into sampling the specials he touts: quality cuts, treats for dogs.

            A fleshy-faced ‘ranga’ of Anglo-Celtic background, he thinks he’ll fit in up here in our small Victorian community, fa...

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