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When you fly across a desert Injured, crashing, stumbling over hot sand until Ahead, the air shimmers above a patch of green, you think I’ve seen mirages before; it’s hard to feel hopeful. But little choice prompts you toward them. You steel yourself for disappointment Only to reach an oasis …

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He changes lanes so often, the white road line crosses back and forth between us until we’re 10 year old siblings dividing a room with string, insisting we stay on our own sides, this ticker tape of a white line ticking between yours and mine but we can’t seem to …

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    Dear Short Listers, I suppose in one way or another you have all won my heart. But seeing as their can be only one winner, in another, far more accurate way, that winner would be: Rowan Chestnut! Congratulations Rowan, on your first short list and first win. Special …

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The familiar mourning melody of the infernal violin seared through her mind like a sharp knife slicing mercilessly through her aching heart. Nothing irritated her more than the screeching of string instruments. It was unfortunate for her to have been taught the skills of decoding the beautiful messages hidden by …

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  8 Charlie collapsed into the armchair next to his father. ‘Would ya?’ Charles Senior held out a glass, smoothed ice-cubes jangling within. Charlie took the glass from his father’s hand, walked to the cabinet, filled it and handed it back before leaving Charles Senior alone in the lounge, less …

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Her painted melody Written by Candace Davis   Clara Poulain really was, quite possibly, the most enchanting pianist on earth. A flowery, petite and curious young woman, she was as humble as she was pleasant. If anything could drive Clara from her 88 ivory-keyed, black-polished grand piano, it lie undiscovered. …

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  A scream escaped her lips the moment she parted them. The man before her winced as he covered his ears with his hands. She immediately closed her mouth. The silence that ensued was more disturbing than the shriek had been. “What ever happened to you?” he asked, removing his …

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Anger. Burning, red hot anger. An evil substance which flowed as freely through the veins of the boy as the music through his head. He referred to one as ‘The Poison’ and one as ‘The Antidote’, but they were interchangeable. Neither were safe, but neither were dangerous. The boy possessed …

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I swirl the froth on the top of my coffee cup with the tip of the silver spoon.  It looks delicious; light brown chocolate sifted carefully over the white milk.  Usually I would really enjoy a freshly brewed cup of coffee, but today I don’t even want it. I want …

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“Why do you keep getting us in these situations?” I asked silently. No reply. I thought for a second he shrugged, as if to say “Hey, I’m just doing my job,” but it was probably just my imagination. I gave him a pat, we were in this mess together afterall. …

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The icy wind whipped at my bare, tear soaked face as I hid in the shadows of Autumn’s dusk. With my head bowed and my hands stuffed firmly into my jacket, I fought off the cold air as I briskly pounded the pavement in my desperation to get home. I …

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Tony waited silently on a bench in the corner of the Robot and Parrot pub. He fidgeted with a ceramic coaster advertising something called Ye Olde Porcine Skin Fragments, pausing occasionally to run his hand over the itchy brown stubble on his head. A bald female dressed in purple overalls …

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I saw it coming. Spreading. Inescapable like the plague. I should’ve known it would’ve been the biology major. They aim for the root of things. “So are you two-“ his finger twirls between us like twisting spaghetti “a thing?” “Jesus,” I say, half to myself, half to Marko, who is …

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I sit patiently at a café. It’s been five minutes and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been stood up by my first official online date. Eventually, he arrives with a barrage of apologies and plonks himself opposite me. He wonders if I would like a coffee. I am …

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February 4th – June 7th 2010   You changed your relationship status from ‘it’s complicated’ to ‘single’ and I knew it was time to make my move. Long had I observed your failing romance, the scattering of posts that were once love sonnets disintegrating into crude cipher written from drunken …

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