Flash Fiction Edition Six: Nostalgia

blockbuster became liquorland / asphalt corner grew up / it doesn’t know i still have a child inside

An ink-pen-sketched person sits and looks into an abstract haze of fluorescent warm colours.

August, Recalled

by Anindya Meiv

The sunset was familiar. It glistened on my skin, peach fuzz risen as pricks of shadows. On the balcony of our friend’s apartment, I looked ahead. Smoke escaped from someone’s chimney, and without looking, I could tell you were smiling. You’d pretend to take a puff—a cigarette joke. Ray-Bans slid over your scrunched up nose; it was reflex—the way my finger pushed them back over your eyes in one swift motion. I sank into my seat, stretched my legs on the table across. Then, the smoke particles disappeared into August’s breeze. Gone with the sunset.

Poof, you said.


Nostalgia in Reverse

By Zoe Keeghan

It happens when spring begins. I breathe the air and it tastes like hope. The breeze brushes against my cheek and it feels like everything will be okay. The sky is wispy blue and it looks like childhood, that feeling of the holidays are almost here, and I will be free.

I remember summers in the garden, heart full of childhood joy. I remember days full of play, days that felt like years in imaginary worlds.

This feeling isn’t that. It is nostalgia in reverse. It is good times will come to you again, and they are coming soon.


Brunch Dates and Bar Nights

by c.a.

There’s just something about meeting high school friends after years of not seeing each other that transports me back in time. I remember my parents dropping me off and picking me up when we hung out, but now my friends are the ones driving me around. It’s surprising how our dynamic stayed the same and they still treat me like a little sister, even when our brunch dates turned into bar nights, and instead of talking about homework, we talked about our careers. I still feel like the sixteen-year-old girl they knew, just a little wiser and definitely more fashionable.


remember me rose-tinted

by Tharidi Walimunige

fuzzy worm on a string for christmas / lost its eyeballs / blockbuster around the corner / scoured the discount shelves for stale stories / the difference between a dollar and two / milkbar man never too trusting / a legion all his own defending his goods / from the jostle of our schoolbags / paddle pop painting my tongue in sunset / i didn’t faint on the superman escape / i held bugs bunny’s hand / and that was even better / hundreds and thousands crackling against my molars / blockbuster became liquorland / asphalt corner grew up / it doesn’t know i still have a child inside / i never got the worm to fly

Farrago's magazine cover - Edition One 2024


It’s 2012 and you have just opened Tumblr. A photo pops up of MGMT in skinny jeans, teashade sunglasses and mismatching blazers that are reminiscent of carpets and ‘60s curtains. Alexa Chung and Alex Turner have just broken up. His love letter has been leaked and Tumblr is raving about it—”my mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.” Poetry at its peak: romance is alive.

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