Fiction | All Yours

Nadya had been writing letters to Morry for years using a pseudonym. She wrote him in the dead of the night, when he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful, untroubled. Unassuming prick, she thought, as she watched him sleep. LikeRead more…

Cold light

The neon sign flashed every morning. “YOU ARE DOING LORD’S WORK”. The last four letters of the sign flickered intermittently. That morning had been worse than others. A big freeze had come over Melbourne which was in the middle ofRead more…

Nothing for dinner

This piece was Highly Commended in the 2017 Feminartsy Fiction Prize. There was nothing for dinner again. Nicole moved from the pantry to the fridge and back, hoping something would magically appear. She turned over half an avocado wrapped inRead more…

Best Laid Plans

This piece was the winning entry in the 2017 Feminartsy Fiction Prize. * ‘Thirty is the top of the mountain.’ Alana had said. ‘That’s when I’ll kill myself.’ Afterwards, she bit into her sandwich, apparently done with the topic. NoneRead more…

That old hurricane

Lillian was in her bedroom when the hurricane struck their town. Fast, strong and unforgiving, the wind hit her windows with such force that the walls shook and the drinking glass on her bedside table tipped over the edge andRead more…

Pink fog

I boarded the train. Although I shed my work uniform the hospital smell was still imprinted on me. The twelve-hour shift passed like some hazy nightmare. My matronly shoes – which promised comfort – started to pinch as I gotRead more…

Surpanaka

Softly, I walked out to meet him. They say that I walked with a sway, my hips making snake shapes in the air. My breasts tight and high, shamefully unconcealed. My eyes red with lust. My hair unbound. What theyRead more…