8am Read More
I arrive at work still half asleep but the sight of the thick and brightly orange cheese puffs scattered on the floor awakens me.
Discover a little bit more about our second Flashers illustrator for the year, Max Prentis! Read More
Last Thursday the world ended. The kids and I were at Maccas. Read More
I am falling, slowly falling, into stars. Spiralling into a tide of darkness sprinkled in light. The swell catches and envelops me. My head is tossed with foam. The water cradles my face, strokes my hair, and still I fall. Read More
Here comes the Armaguard truck . It comes every Tuesday with change for the tills, but it also carries a more precious cargo – the sweaty-fingered thrill of a secret love. Me and Matt sit on milk crates in the loading dock. I unwrap my sandwich: peanut butter. Matt’s eating salami today. Read More
The creature never introduced itself.
It walked through the front door one evening, sat down in the lounge room and started laying out its things. We were all too polite to ask its name, or where it was from, or why, indeed, it had visited us. So, we just... never spoke about it. Read More
I realised today that I miss you. It has been so very long, and I was cruel. I dropped you like a hot potato when something better came along; I get that now. Well that something better was an illusion, a brief distraction as it turns out. It certainly was not fulfilling. Read More
The one thing I have not been able to talk about is how we ate dinner the night she told me it was over. After we’d gone through the worst of it, somehow she managed to cook us porterhouse steak. Read More
James only had half an hour before he could finally clock off for the night. His girlfriend was waiting for him; he’d probably get laid tonight. He smiled. At that moment a man walked in, his brow creased, a tattoo laced down his arm, ending at the knuckle of his index finger, which circled the trigger of a gun. Read More
1. There is a worm in my kale.
1.1. It is reasonably big, predominantly white – curled, as though writhing in pain.
1.1.1. Do worms even feel pain?
1.1.2. I mean: do they really? Read More
I dreamt my lover introduced me to his four sons. One for each season, I thought.
The youngest was magnificent.
‘His mother was a tiger.’ Read More
Jack’s surname was Shit. That’s right, Jack Shit. It was a silly name. He had thought many times of changing it. Read More
Notes for a story: Gay couple on holiday decide to instigate a threesome. Read More