Creative Nonfiction


I was 14 when Mum and Dad brought Billie home. 

23 March 2020
PTV Woes

When I landed in Melbourne some ten months ago, a grass-green philistine whose closet contained nary a single tote bag, I did so with high expectations. Among these expectations was that this first-world metropolis would come equipped with a functional, if not flawless, public transport system. 

summer sadness in st kilda east

when i wake up, dani and melissa scramble into my bed. half shaved legs sprawl over my ikea doona cover. melissa and i scream with delight as dani tells us why she was out until 9am. ‘stop screaming!’ she begs.

18 April 2018
Centre of the Universe

The centre of the universe is starting to combust.

13 March 2018
Nectar, Honey and Pudding

I heap powder from a tin that reads ‘Thick and Easy’. It has a background like a milk carton and reminds me vaguely of banana flavoured Nesquik.

22 August 2017
Dear Kevin

Content Warning: self harm, homophobia in religious institutions Dear Kevin, I was six when I first entered your church. We’d never gone regularly back in England, but we’d been invited by someone’s mum from school and it was – without irony – my mother’s saving grace. We suddenly had a new family, my mum stopped […]

11 May 2017
In Memoriam

CONTENT WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE For a while, I believed in the Viking funeral myth, the one where they supposedly take the deceased and lay their body on a ship, set it sail and then the tribes shoot flaming arrows at the ship as it sails off into the distance., shooting their arrows with incredible, […]

A Sea of Isolation

It is cold. The sky is endlessly grey, and light snow falls lazily, catching on the cuffs of my jacket. A few scattered mounds of scuffed ice cling to the pavement. I tuck my chin into my chest, ducking my head against the bitter wind that weaves between the buildings of a restored city. I […]

30 March 2017
Little Red Scars

CONTENT WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, SELF HARM As a child, I remember sneaking into my parents’ storage closet to look at piles and piles of documents and photos. What I didn’t know then was that among all of those forgotten memories sat a family heirloom that held generations of pain and trauma. They were a pair of […]

Anthropological Notes on Summoning a Sex Demon

Objective reality? Sam Nelson has no need for that.

6 October 2016
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