A major theft – by Emma Rosetta
Fiction Emma Rosetta Fiction Emma Rosetta

A major theft – by Emma Rosetta

Sarge says come back to station right away. Been a major theft. And he says bring him a bacon-and-egg sandwich from Rosa’s.’ Nathan frowned at the radio. ‘What about the theft?’

‘Oh, yeah. It’s not urgent.’

‘The sandwich isn’t urgent?’

‘The theft. Make sure you bring the sandwich.’ Maureen’s bored, staticky voice signed off and the line went dead.

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Sandcastles – by Ruth Armstrong
Fiction Ruth Armstrong Fiction Ruth Armstrong

Sandcastles – by Ruth Armstrong

WINNER, OLGA MASTERS SHORT STORY AWARD 2022

Rumi doesn’t know how long he’s been on the beach. He’s not sunburnt, thanks to his yellow and red lycra stinger suit. He’s not particularly thirsty either. The only sign that time has passed is the collection of identical sandcastles lined up in evenly spaced rows fanning back from the shore – each moulded into the turreted shape of his plastic beach bucket … When the tide goes out it will leave his creations pale and brittle in the sun, and by the following morning they will be gone – no trace of them amongst the stingray holes and fragments of chalky bleached coral …

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The Mowing – by Ivy Ireland
Fiction Ivy Ireland Fiction Ivy Ireland

The Mowing – by Ivy Ireland

WINNER, OLGA MASTERS SHORT STORY AWARD 2021

That cloud looks more like a squished chicken than a dragon. Not a dragon day, then. Nothing auspicious. No signs or portents. Just an up-ended moon beside a squished chicken cloud, which is fast turning into a pile of dog turds. I close the blind before the sun rises above the tree line. I pour a coffee but don’t drink it. I wander in and out of my bedroom, but don’t change out of my crushed and sweaty PJs. I head outside and walk up the long, dusty drive to bring in the bins … I itch for a ciggie. No. As bad as things are, I’ve still got that one giant refusal to cling to …

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Go Get Boy – by Alison Flett
Fiction Alison Flett Fiction Alison Flett

Go Get Boy – by Alison Flett

WINNER, OLGA MASTERS SHORT STORY AWARD 2020

I’m The Fetcher, Go Get Boy, barrelling along in the back of Darren’s ute, riding high on the highest pile of drydry firewood, gunna burn so good. I’m one of three, that’s me, that’s who I am, and the three of us are building one good fire. Others are building their own fires but ours’ll be biggest, ours’ll be best, ours’ll burnburnburn forever. No-one’ll forget us when they see our blaze …

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