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By Christine Watson Life as a grandmother is so empowering. Watching each individual personality emerge and blossom into a thinking entity. Six….yes six….grand children……… “Who’da thought….back in 1972 when I married their grandfather….. Their strength is invigorating. How they think is inspiring and enlightening. What and why they think can...
By Kerry Fair Stella is seated at a table in her home office typing on the keyboard of her computer. She then waves a dismissive hand at the screen as if she doesn’t like what she’s written. STELLA: (standing up and stretching) To keep writing or not to keep writing – that is the question … sorry Shakespeare. Stella picks up a notebook and pen and sits on her desk facing the...
By Christine Watson “Hey, G’day….how’s ya chooks?” A typical real bush Aussi greeting. Liaising with my “new-to-Australia” friends who look at me strangely when my parting ‘farewell’ is …..”see ya ‘round the traps.” There is a deeper colloquial language which stems from Australia’s 1930’s, 40’s and 50’s era. A time when life seemed simpler……when my...
By Donna Rayner Snorkel snorkel where is my snorkel Is it in the car I said. No it’s not, don’t know if I placed it in the bag. In Shakespeare’s times it could have been Snorkel snorkel where art thou snorkel But it’s not and I still can’t find it in these modern times, Maybe it’s in the depression times. Doesn’t look like it. Besides I’m getting depressed trying to locate it...
By Christine Watson Streets are pretty mellow Crowd has all gone home Clean up time is imminent We’re in the ‘wind-down zone Frenzy of excitement, t’was a full-on crazy ride We accept that it is over, shouts of laughter now subside Apply the brakes, subdue the air, as we cross the finish line Winners are delighted, more stars will rise n’ shine Hits n’ hats –...
By Jhi Rayner The Judge entered into the vast hall of justice and sat himself upon his throne, brandishing his makeshift wooden pole that he turned in his fingers, almost disinterested with the proceeding that were to commence. I saw the wooden beam, thinner at one end than the other, seem to shudder at the touch, the words ‘Guilty’ and ‘Innocent’ burnt onto the ends. It seems crazy to...
By Donna Rayner
Textures, patterns and light
All combine to produce a sight
Shadows intrigue me
As long as I leave it be
Fur, hair or string
I am not sure
Just a little thing
So innocent and pure
Image: Robin King
By Aiden Rayner The cavern was dark. Black as pitch it could be said. Light seemingly never having touched the obsidian surfaces of the walls. Not that the figures ever looked to the left or right. Their eyes stayed always fixed on the things that would assist in their survival. They hung by scratched and scarred hands from a shimmering golden tower, illuminated at intervals by powerful...
By Greg Brady
Image: Robin King
By Kerry Fair Estelle and Miles sat in their car on the wharf, sardined amongst the other vehicles lined-up waiting. Estelle felt agitated and the pain had started-up again. Six months since the crash, but her left foot, no longer there, was throbbing. How can a foot that isn’t there hurt so much. She didn’t dare mention the pain to Miles. He’d think she was trying to make him feel guilty...