Prose

The Cursed Girl and the Cat and the Apocalypse

Time to implement the plan! Dude, get the car, the maps, I know we’re starting out in suburbs but I swear to God we’ll make it to the mountains, we fucking have to.

17 June 2019
Faulty Fizzles

The bath bomb had been a delight for about five minutes. The walls became soaked in the scents of pear and cinnamon as the bomb fizzled into a pool of green. With her classical playlist serenading her, Jesmintha enjoyed her muscles sighing and her thoughts slowing their buzzing wings. Then the twitching began.

Bees

I found a boy sitting on my verandah one day. He was different from the others because he was calm. Crimson scars climbed his skin.

11 June 2019
Complementary Colours

“You’re probably going to paint this room a fluorescent green. Then the couch won’t match. It’ll look odd.” Jules groans. “Who cares? It doesn’t have to match! Some things just don’t match!” Like us, Mary wants to say, but she doesn’t.

4 June 2019
The Remarkable Quests of Raddish and Quill: Poetry Through Time and Space

The University of Melbourne’s Creative Literature and Writing Society present The Remarkable Quests of Raddish and Quill, a collaborative column for Farrago.

7 May 2019
The Fairytale Gazette: Part 3

Murder and general mayhem sound just like your good old-fashioned fairy tales, something left behind in the myths and legends that belong in forgotten derelict book-shelves. Beware sensationalism but the reality is that it’s all just life, kids.

Everywhere at the End of Time

The first time I encountered Victor was on a bleak, foggy morning exactly one year ago today. I find it fascinating that one can innocently tug at a single thread and accidentally unravel an entire garment.

A Thing with Feathers: Part 3

Maybe the internet is a history machine. Much under the surface. I remember clicking a page of one-on-one RPG blogs: two friends/writers for Something Awful documenting their campaigns for lulz.

Broken Lighter, Dead Bird

Here I am with love seeping out my pores again, sticky hearted always, sticky date pudding, B tastes so sweet. Teeth so crooked, my butterfly boy, freckled chest so sweet, smells so sweet, familiar, way he walks, so sweet, can’t stand it.

The Remarkable Quests of Raddish and Quill: A Lively Market Visit

The University of Melbourne’s Creative Literature and Writing Society present The Remarkable Quests of Raddish and Quill, a collaborative column for Farrago.

3 April 2019
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