Short Stories

I don’t know what part Magic Valley played in my life but I know without it, it would be like a jigsaw with a piece missing. You’ve seen people like Mad Mike and Sweet Suzette, the sole residents of the valley. Their hippy garb and faie ways date them from an era long gone or…

It was half way through the second semester, as cold rain splattered on the ground-to-ceiling glass windows of the third year novel class, when Briony, attractive, articulate and sensitive Briony – who the creative writing selection committee said, ‘shows creative promise’ – discovered that Fatima Paharjarma, had scored a two book contract with Praxis Publishing,…

The full moon was waning as I walk to my old Subaru wagon. The fishing gear and bait lie in the back with the empty plastic motor oil containers. It’s 5.00am and if I play my cards right, Kingfish will be biting near the ledges. I packed my lunch last night so I wouldn’t wake…

Katrina ran her fingernails down Karl’s back as he unclipped her bra. She liked dreams that travelled at a slow, well-defined pace. One of his hands ran around the nape of her neck, pulling her lips towards his, when the emergency alarm screamed in the sleeping capsule, pulling her out of the dream by the…

The salt pan shimmered at noon as whirly-winds danced like Jinn’s in the distance. The geography was geometry, a white plain with the life sucked out of it. Four half-naked young men in 52C heat, wearing wrap-around sunglasses, broad-rimed hats soaked in water and not much else, stand by a Toyota truck staring at each…

The white hospital room was the size of small shipping container and with as much charm. To my right, is a white bedside table. There’s a jug of water and three ‘get well’ cards. A posy of flowers sits in a glass. Doris, the cleaning lady, chucked them on my bed last night. The woman…

In a neon lit psychiatrist’s waiting room, David DeAngelis reads a story in an old magazine about a dog who fell off a yacht and swam 17 kilometres to shore, only to be killed by a drunk truck driver while trotting across the road. A middle aged woman rises from her seat, walks slowly past…

Nancy could never remember when pruning roses, whether one cut above the joint on the stem or below. The secateurs wavered in her hand for a moment and then she heard the postman’s motorbike roar towards her house. Christmas was only a week away and although she was in the autumn of her years, Nancy…

On the western side of the island of Sirenos, the white cliffs of the caldera rise 500 metres, creating a deep, ultramarine horseshoe bay. To the east, lie the black volcanic beaches where tourists feed the tame and playful dolphins. In the middle of the island, lie rolling green fields where horses graze. Their black…

Sergeant David Pascoe stared at a jet trail dissolving in to the faint blue skies above Kirkuk as the green fruit of the oleander tree hung heavy over mangy dogs in the dirt. His seven-man patrol rested under the tattered awning of the baker’s shop. Corporal Richard Dawson sat by himself. He hated Iraq and…