“It’s howling!” “No, it’s just a breeze”.  She stares at her grandfather as he leans against the door, his worn flannelette shirt …

Lysandra opened her eyes and wished she were still asleep. Her head pounded as though a team of stonemasons was carving a …

The kiss was tingling. She’d waited all night, watching him across the room, his face glittering red under the disco ball. His …

It all began with Marty’s pail of weed. And I mean pail – one of those galvanised steel pails your grandma had …

No no no no no no no no no no no no It’s not that big! It’s a trick, done with mirrors …

* This piece is a response to Rob Wilcher’s beautiful poem “Carry the Water”.   The stream eddies, as his hand drifts. …

Jenna could not believe her luck as she followed Jeremy down the sandy wooden path that led to the beach. Was this …

They say your life flashes before you when you die. They are wrong. It’s your future you see. Like when you lean …

The boy watched the old man crouched By the pool in the sun stirring the water With an even hand. He was …

The shooting started at around 4.30 pm; most of the neighbourhood mothers had herded their kids inside and were probably doing what …