i.
The date in my notebook says 11 March 1986. I would have been eight years old. There is a drawing of a bird that I must have copied from a book long since...
1st Place in the TSS Flash 400 competition (winter)
The gallery’s polished concrete floor gives off an acrid, almost rotten smell; a lecherous odour that force...
“Don’t miss it,” he called, rat-tatting on her bedroom door. Stella lay in bed, half-listening to the uniformed attendants puttering around outside her barred a...
I found him slumped in a chair on the store verandah, fingers shaking on the dregs of a smoke. I nodded like you would for a stranger. He raised his hand like h...
It’s going to rain. I can feel it in my bones, and in the nooks behind my teeth, and in the frizz of my hair. It’s going to rain very soon.
I try to tell Gra...
1st Place in the TSS Flash Fiction 400 Competition (autumn 2018)
My brothers and I line up outside the house, eldest first, as once we did for ‘Santa’. The w...
