The Tick Tock Killer - by Alex Cothren
Fiction Alex Cothren Fiction Alex Cothren

The Tick Tock Killer - by Alex Cothren

Rodriguez, suddenly looking pale: God damn. I sure hope we don’t find anything like that.
Close shot as the make-up brush cuts short its hula. The Make-up Girl’s face dips into the mirror. Dark, hard eyes.
Make-up Girl: You fucking better find something like that. I need this job, okay? My dog’s on dialysis …

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The Wolves - by Josephine Rowe
Fiction Josephine Rowe Fiction Josephine Rowe

The Wolves - by Josephine Rowe

How was it? We grew up inside those crumbling estate houses, where kikuyu grass knuckled through indifferent brickwork, through the husks of cars, and still we shot up like miraculous gymnosperms to various kinds of fame …

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Cod Opening - by Wayne Marshall
Fiction Wayne Marshall Fiction Wayne Marshall

Cod Opening - by Wayne Marshall

So, finally. After a near torturous week of waiting, it’s here. After a week of sleepless nights, of time crawling by on the factory walls, of preparing his fishing rods and watching the weather – Cod Opening. …

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Stingrays - by Christine Kearney
Fiction Christine Kearney Fiction Christine Kearney

Stingrays - by Christine Kearney

There are stingrays in the lake, Daddy warned. They wait on the sandy lake bed and when you come crashing through the shallows and step on one, boom! You get a poisoned barb through your foot. The pain, he said, is excruciating. I was eleven years old that summer, and every afternoon when we got back from the beach, Tristan and I went down to the lake with my new dinghy …

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Eve - by Laura Elvery
Fiction Laura Elvery Fiction Laura Elvery

Eve - by Laura Elvery

My grey jacket – serious, but not a traumatic colour – is standard issue. I push my arms into the sleeves and wait for the list of Carriers to come through on my phone …

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The Teeth and the Curl: A Note to a Cousin - by Robbie Arnott
Fiction Robbie Arnott Fiction Robbie Arnott

The Teeth and the Curl: A Note to a Cousin - by Robbie Arnott

… You find no cowries by rushing. She told us that, once. Many times. The coarse beach climbing beneath our nails as she spoke. Harsh rocks stubbing our toes into jammy mash when we ignored her and sprinted into the shallows. Oyster shells blading through the skin of our fingers as she said slow down, slow down. You have a whole life …

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Extension - by Anthony Lynch
Fiction Anthony Lynch Fiction Anthony Lynch

Extension - by Anthony Lynch

… I had liked the old kitchen. Last week I sat on a bar stool before the island bench, sipping orange juice while Craig relieved the fridge of beer and his wife Estelle blended celery and carrot. But for five years the Wilsons had plotted a replacement. When Estelle’s late mother left a sum, they decided not only on a new kitchen but a living room of tennis court proportions …

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Okay is a Verb - by Erin Hortle
Fiction Erin Hortle Fiction Erin Hortle

Okay is a Verb - by Erin Hortle

Cece wiggles her toes up and down, and then wiggles her hips, swivelling herself this way, then that. She sinks further into the aerated sand of the tideline. She bends down and picks up a small rock from beneath the lap of the shallows …

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Just Maybe - by Dominic Amerena
Fiction Dominic Amerena Fiction Dominic Amerena

Just Maybe - by Dominic Amerena

It begins and ends with Miranda, standing in front of me, one arm by her side and the other massaging my shoulder, the fingers splayed and the nails somewhat ragged and covered in a clear solution that possesses similar chemical properties to antifreeze …

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46 - by Ana Duffy
Fiction Ana Duffy Fiction Ana Duffy

46 - by Ana Duffy

Llevate agua y sombrero, says my mother, as she does every time. The couch relaxes under her weight as she sits, and, stretching her legs on the foot stool one at a time, she groans …

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Apple Suite - by Danielle Wood
Fiction Danielle Wood Fiction Danielle Wood

Apple Suite - by Danielle Wood

Glen Huon, Tasmania
”You’ll see pickers and picnickers, returned servicemen and brides, young buildings all raw-planked and surrounded by saplings, hay carts piled high, blossom-filled vistas – a hundred thin slices of once-upon-a-time light displayed in deliberately mismatched frames …”

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Foundations - by Michael Blake
Fiction Michael Blake Fiction Michael Blake

Foundations - by Michael Blake

Scottsdale, Tasmania
There used to be trees here, and there will be trees here again.
 But for now there is a paddock, desiccated foot-high grass spitting pollen, seed-heads nodding in the peak-summer breeze...

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Blackbird - by Magdalena Lane
Fiction Magdalena Lane Fiction Magdalena Lane

Blackbird - by Magdalena Lane

Sorell, Tasmania
A story inspired by women’s stories and celebrates the role of the community hall as 
a vital and democratic site that supports the continued sharing of traditional knowledge …

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