Footsteps, by Tom Adair STRANGE JAN PRICE Strange footprints in the sand — not a seagull’s scrawny three-pronged arrows that point in the direction opposite to intended destination. Perhaps a tide-out early morning runner for the sand is … Continued
Waiting for Rainfall – Winton Wetlands, by Jo Curtain CYPRINUS CARPIO KERSTIN LINDROS life—it’s not easy for me, a common old carp, survivor of many battles in the ponds of Saxon forests, who sings when scared but no-one hears, … Continued
Weird Wonderful, by Wendy Ratawa MILLEFIORI TRISHA GENT Dumbfounded, her vision swims and distorts Colluding with the glassy, glossy colours that flick and cavort and meld Inundating her senses and caressing; oh the sensuality Seducing her with their kaleidoscopic … Continued
Thoughtful, by Jan Price I DO SO LOVE THE SEASIDE GUENTER SAHR I do so love the seaside. I love it best in winter, when softly falling rain seduces waves to rest. A trusty chair, stout hat, a rain … Continued
The Finest 500 is an annual competition for Geelong Writers’ members. This year, writers were invited to submit prose or poetry to 500 words in response to the theme: A Place I Know. Dr Jennifer Hurley judged the shortlist. You … Continued
COLD INNIT Geoffrey Gaskill It wasn’t cold here like the old country. He’d read the poster about coming to Sunny Australia but all he found was another kind of chill. He arrived on the winter solstice and a dour Customs … Continued
By Jo Curtain. Sadie and me descend into the valley. Not at ease—the crooked trail hurts my knees. I glance at Sadie, summer-girl shy, tender, her body tall and slender like the Alpine Ash trees. We’re tired. Flesh responding to … Continued
By Akshata Kulkarni. I have tasted your Kensington and endured the Calypso, but none to me tastes like my dear Alphonso. Amba, Aam or Mango—call it what you may—all signify the season of the bright yellow. While a bane to … Continued
By Michael Cains. Summer sun warming oily bronzed skins gleefully splashed sprays of salt water lazy waves tumbling onto yellow bright sand Even non-swimmers enticed into the blue. Tight and flabby bodies, all brightly garbed bouncing with no cares and … Continued
By Mathilda Garrido Lucay. I sat down as a cold tear goes down my tender, fragile face, All days are balmy but today the sun is low, and I am stuck in my headspace. Bells Jingle, and angels carol chant … Continued