October 7, 2017

The first time I lay eyes on Charlie is at a small bookshop in Newtown. I have just finished a reading from my work on sex and intimacy before a small, and blessedly friendly crowd. Behind the lectern we, the writers, were shy, unapologetic, a little awkward; but now,...

July 9, 2017

The man in the faded shirt is waiting for the bus. He’s been standing on the corner for ten minutes before he notices a young redhead, perhaps in her thirties, perhaps slightly older, with moles like choc-chips scattered on her broad face. 

“What bus are ya waiting for,...

November 25, 2016

A pile of rumpled clothes, a damp smell, the room signals heartache or, at the very least, regret. Carly stretches a lazy arm out of bed towards the bottle – misses. Tries again, this time just catching it. She takes a greedy gulp, wine dribbling down her chin, and sav...

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