The Voice
Written in reference to the upcoming referendum in Australia on the Indigenous Voice to Parliment.
The Old Mansion
A 100 word Gothic short story.
What is Identity?
Identity, elusive and profound, A mystery we all try to surround, It's more than just our name or our race, It's the essence of who…
Emily
The sun was setting on the old, dilapidated house, casting long shadows across the overgrown lawn. Emily shivered as a gust of wind ruffled her hair, and she tugged her coat tighter around her body
The Visit
The doorbell will surely buzz any minute. It’s a one-tone, rapid-fire “brriiiiiiiing” that ruptures the silence and always seems to cut right through any mid-sentence…
I am a crow
A poem about a misunderstood bird- the crow.
Life is a game of cat and mouse
Just a random thought about life.
Frankenstein’s Creature- Villain or Victim?
An essay on Frankenstein's creature
The advantages of being a couch potato
Introduction I'm sure you've heard this one before: "Couch potato" is a pejorative term for someone who sits on the couch all day and watches…
Of Mice and Pens
"Sir, can I please borrow a pen?" I hear this several times every day. Fifteen years ago, when I started on the road back into…
The Hydrodome
Millennia ago, hidden in the deep, dark abyss of the ocean, among the vast nocturne Corallian sea glass reefs, a domed city called Koriko thrived.…
The Concrete Jungle
he sun looms large, glaring down at the white city beneath it. The buildings of the city, old as they are, have lost their colour. The paint that clothed the once vibrant plaster buildings, has long since peeled and flaked off, faded over time. In some roofed areas, evidence of their once glorious past remains. It must have been so- books from the time before, rambled on about a great city, vibrant with colour and something organic called trees. The only colour that the inhabitants of this bleached city know is the white of their surroundings, the blue of their sky and the empty blackness of night. Unbeknownst to these inhabitants, buried deep in the vast emptiness lay billions of shiny jewels that would twinkle in all their glory. If only they would turn off their white lights.
The Copper Coin
An imaginative piece using an unusual narrator.
Mother
The salty wind danced spirals over the rippling ocean, picking up shards of sea mist, shifting clouds and flickering through the dirty hair of the…
Monday Traffic
It's one of those typical Monday evenings somewhere in Los Angeles. The only thing people on the streets of LA are thinking of is: "How…
An Awakening
Ring. Bop. Beep. Slam. Crunch. These are the sounds that surround me. Fill me. Drive me. The phone, the stapler, the fax machine, the cars…
The Man with the Boat
I am the man with the boat. My people love me, but more importantly, they love my boat. Asubuhi Upepo is her name, or in…
Writer’s Block
A muted mind upon a blockNo words abound to e'er unlockA body sat, and lain, and strodeA path which fails to crack life's codeO' cursed…
For Better or Verse
As a lad I would oft times sit with pen and heart a quiver. Visions of love and a pounding breast would cause my soul…
On Lost Reality
On lost reality... absence of thought disturbs me. I've found me in a dream... I've lost me in a dream. Longing, like a new window,…
The Graveyard of Truth
A sea of mist surrounds the graveyard where Little Anthea Messner died on the 13th day of November in 1885. It happened that dark, gloomy…
Disillusionment
I am the shadow of a person The whisper remaining of one who has seen his ideals ravaged and his hopes dissipating into dusts of…
Faith
From where was none, Faith has sprung A black rose, Petals poised To drink the night, Like water
The Girl at the Window
This original story is inspired by a scene in the novel, Jasper Jones I don't know why she came to me. Did she need help,…
The Lottery
As he scanned the columns, reciting 23, 5, 1, 9, 6, 8, the date of his late wife’s birthday, Jonah Mallory rubbed his eyes, trying…
The Lie
The night was lit by the smiles of pinstriped men and feathered ladies. Their hands flailed and bodies mashed together like a cluster of bees.…
To a Flowering Gum Tree
I loved your graceful, awkward limbs, the red and yellow powder puffs, bright,in the soft dawn of those sizzling summer daysthat give no quarter beneath…
Ramblings & Random Rants 