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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Pink Sun - by Toby Fitch
Poetry Toby Fitch Poetry Toby Fitch

Pink Sun - by Toby Fitch

… at peak hour / pink sun / black sky / you can return now / for eternity / ’cause you’ve stood up with the Hellsong / hung loose and come out the other / sideline without a hose / to fan the arson online …

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Selling the Farm - by Nicole Gill
Nonfiction Nicole Gill Nonfiction Nicole Gill

Selling the Farm - by Nicole Gill

Nicole Gill on holding on, and letting go:
They’re selling our family farm. And I don’t think that I can stop it. I find out second-hand, from my brother. My mind skips over emotions like a stone across water – denial, anger, straight over bargaining, and into depression. How can this be? The Van Diemonian squattocracy ain’t what it used to be …

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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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For Sale - by Ruth Quibell
Nonfiction Ruth Quibell Nonfiction Ruth Quibell

For Sale - by Ruth Quibell

Ruth Quibell on homesickness and the fading of the great Australian dream:
Like most Australians, I once aspired to own a home of my own, but as I get older, and property prices further part ways with median incomes, I know it is unlikely. I’m far from an outlier … Whatever my other achievements at work, or in my personal relationships, I am left with an unresolved longing for a permanent home …

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Sunlight / Dear Mum - by Graham Akhurst
Poetry Graham Akhurst Poetry Graham Akhurst

Sunlight / Dear Mum - by Graham Akhurst

… At midday the sun was high and bright in the clear blue sky. You took off your slippers, socks, and beanie, and walked your frail body – with the hospital gown hanging loosely over you and the wheels of your drip machine rattling – onto the lawn …

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Sisters Akousmatica: Herstory of Radio
Arts Features Sisters Akousmatica Arts Features Sisters Akousmatica

Sisters Akousmatica: Herstory of Radio

[Voix Fantôme] The act of simply being women in public space, in radio/broadcast space, in performance space, in the world, can be a radical one – but we do not wish to leave it at that.
[Transmitter 1] How? How to begin to unpick a thousand years of cultural status quo?

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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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Tend - by Jo Langdon
Poetry Jo Langdon Poetry Jo Langdon

Tend - by Jo Langdon

I could some days mistake for a flower/
the perineum—by letter & sound—it’s true:/
like some variant nasturtium/
of jaunty colour atop salad leaves & dressed/
in bright oil …

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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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