By Denise Main and Ian Chisholm Previous Episodes George stood in front of Eddington’s Exclusive Men’s Wear display window and gazed at his reflection - the grey- streaked beard, shoulders slightly hunched and tufts of greying hair escaping from under his beanie. He compared his reflected image with a
This month’s zine is a special edition for those who observed Halloween AKA Gay Xmas. We have a winner announced from last month’s call for confessions and the 3rd installment of my novel, Up Split Creek. Enjoy Weirdos! Get Tickets Here
by Dorothy Johnston, Ivor Steven, Celeste Blundell-Camden, Phoebe Hancox, Jo Curtain Easter at Waralilly by Dorothy Johnston I write this in anticipation of the guns, the echoing of gunfire off the houses. The reeds around the swamp do not so much give back an echo as bear witness to
by Geelong Cereal Community Please enjoy our biggest collection yet! Many of these pieces featured on air last Friday night at the Geelong Cereal live reading "Smooth Talkers" on the Pulse 94.7FM. Well done everyone! Micro Fiction Randompedia III By Martin Smith Dyslexippus, also known as ‘the
by Jo Curtain Returning to those muggy mornings the smell of burning rubbish palm fronds littering the path to the beach Stillness sinks into shimmering black sand the nostalgia of scorched coffee churns with fragile memories as pebbles tumble over my toes Watching sets roll in the changing light spreads
by Celeste Blundell-Camden VIEWPOINT Sparkling Diamonds - Beautiful - but most are flawed! What of us - the same? HUMBLE TEACHER Strong tall barked wonder - You seed, sprout, bloom - change and die. Do you not ask why? THE SONG The immensity - Sky sea earth wind bird - human All are part - yet - all.
by Phoebe Hancox People assumed that when the rapture happened They would be responsible. That the world revolved around them And that they were the only ones that faced judgment They assumed that dogs, birds, and horses were clueless, Didn’t worship a higher power, Maybe even worshipped them, their
by Dorothy Johnston I write this in anticipation of the guns, the echoing of gunfire off the houses. The reeds around the swamp do not so much give back an echo as bear witness to untimely death. Not the death and re-birth of the god, the coming of spring
By Ivor Steven My harpooned Dragon, fallen and out of breath Gazing around, pleading, near death The Slayer's spear, protrudes from his scaly vest And I listen, to his pounding chest Quickly, I plunge my sword, cutting shard Removing the spears horrid barb My Dragon exhales an awesome
By Elyse Harrison ‘Okay,’ Clara sighed, letting a breath escape from her chest. ‘No use in re-living the past,’ she whispered to herself. Feeling the need to distract herself, she wandered aimlessly around the house. Finally, she mustered the courage to enter her mother’s bedroom. A large, wooden
Darley Street Ep 1 - The Car - Season Three By Steve Gray Wednesday, eleven am, a beat-up small silver sedan that has seen much better days ‘stumbles’ into a parking spot outside the bakery, it rolls to a stop, a trail of oil follows and is now leaching onto the
By Brett J Cole Once, but also perhaps on a day yet to come - for stories such as this are held in people's hearts, not held in time - there was a king. He proclaimed himself to be a great king, and there were many too fearful to argue,