I was 15 in 1968 and in Intermediate at Concordia College in Malvern. My eldest brother, Peter, who was almost 11 years older than me, came to teach at the school. First, he taught mathematics, then music. He also coached me in football. I could not get away from him. He was music master untilContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: Alternative Reality”
Category Archives: Human Interest/Relationships
Edie Eicas: Dangerous Weapons
It’s a beautiful day, and I’m parked at the Torrens Parade Ground waiting to pick up my Japanese student and her friends to take them to a party. I’m early and I’ve opened my windows to enjoy the warm breeze. Spring has sprung, the lawn is green, the trees are flush with new growth, andContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Dangerous Weapons”
Nell Holland: Shame
When Sammy awoke the room was still dark and Jenny was wrapped in his arms. She’d crawled in beside him at some point in the night and, as always, she’d wet the bed. They were both sodden and he was so tired. The loud music, laughter and shouting had gone on for a long-time lastContinue reading “Nell Holland: Shame”
Fran Collins: Gertrud
Gertrud at seventeen years was a year shy of ending compulsory membership to Hitler’s female Youth League, the Bund Deutscher Mädel. Soon she would be free of the repetitive marching practice and the stupid domestic classes that aimed to turn her into a diligent Aryan wife and mother. Neither matched her self-image of adventurer andContinue reading “Fran Collins: Gertrud”
Prem Dwivedi: Samosa and Chai – A Taste of India
In India, afternoons often come alive with the vibrant tradition of indulging in samosas and chai. Imagine a lively street scene, where colourful stalls and vendors are surrounded by a rich aroma of spices. The air is thick with the scent of cumin, coriander, and sizzling oil. At the heart of this bustling atmosphere isContinue reading “Prem Dwivedi: Samosa and Chai – A Taste of India”
Jean Stewart: Bush Telegraph
The other day a neighbour fronted me. ‘Do you know who the new family is in our street?’ ‘Haven’t a clue,’ I replied. ‘Members of the Moran family. Remember Melbourne’s gangland Underbelly killings?’ I vaguely recalled the incidents. My neighbour persevered. ‘Trish Moran has moved in with her sons and their kids. One is wearingContinue reading “Jean Stewart: Bush Telegraph”
Jean Stewart: Pie Face
My first experience of feeling shame was at the age of twelve. My friend Nina and I were cycling home, when a raucous group of boys rode in front of us, halting our trip. Nina was an emotionally and physically advanced girl, fascinated by the opposite sex. I was young for my age, enjoying theContinue reading “Jean Stewart: Pie Face”
Nell Holland: The Best Years of Our Lives
When asked about schooldays, she’ll only say, ‘Finding myself took time.’ *** The invitation to the fifty-year reunion languished in a drawer until Martin discovered it and Olivia admitted she was disinclined to go. He usually avoided events that weren’t job-related, but misinterpreting her reluctance, said encouragingly. ‘I’ll come, then you won’t be alone.’ She’dContinue reading “Nell Holland: The Best Years of Our Lives”
Prem Dwivedi: Covid Period – Social Dynamics in Burnside and Beyond
The Covid era brought challenges nothing like we had faced before, but it also reminded us of a fundamental truth: humans are deeply social beings. Despite the world closing in around us, the need for connection sparkled brightly, guiding us through the uncertainty. In those threatening days of the pandemic when the entire world wasContinue reading “Prem Dwivedi: Covid Period – Social Dynamics in Burnside and Beyond”
Don Sinnott: Secrets
Samantha was bubbling. The bridge-climb was just what she and her husband Dennis needed. She’d seen the daily tourist processions across the arch while taking a break from the Sydney conference. Why not? She called and booked tickets for the following day. Dennis was to fly over from Adelaide, to share an indulgent weekend. TheContinue reading “Don Sinnott: Secrets”
Jean Stewart: Stalked
He is leaning on someone’s letterbox when she opens her gate to walk past him. Cross-legged and smoking, his gaze penetrates. Her voice is breezy and carefree. ‘Just moved in? Welcome!’ His half-closed eyes survey her. With a strong Middle Eastern accent, he replies: ‘I’ve seen you already; your unit is in front of mine’.Continue reading “Jean Stewart: Stalked”
Nell Holland: Patient 41
2022 The nurse changed my bed linen at lunchtime. It should have happened hours before, but a patient had demanded to be discharged and then changed his mind. This had doubled her paperwork and she found herself hopelessly behind schedule. She’d sighed an explanation, ’Paperwork is the worst thing, ever, for a nurse.’ Paperwork? Really?Continue reading “Nell Holland: Patient 41”
Robert Schmidt: Poor Robert
I rang the Fullarton Lutheran Homes for a follow-up visit with my sister Pauline. ‘That will be fine,’ the secretary says to me over the phone. ‘No RATS or appointment. Just put a mask on and then a visor when you get here.’ Half an hour later I cheerfully arrive at the front door. ThereContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: Poor Robert”
Nell Holland: Post-Christmas
How many more cards with Christmas greetings will keep arriving? They were posted last year in the UK, and it’s now the end of January. Some cards are even postmarked from the end of November. When I look at the postage-price Louisa paid for her card picturing a classic Nativity scene, I’m horrified to seeContinue reading “Nell Holland: Post-Christmas”
Don Sinnott: A Tale of Three Couples—Saturday arvo flicks, late 1950s
He wore his school pants—the only pair of longs he owned—and she wore her fourteenth birthday dress, a less comfortable fit than it was a year ago. They slid into their ticketed seats for the Saturday afternoon film, the girl clutching the gifted box of Jaffas, and self-consciously linked hands. As the Val MorganContinue reading “Don Sinnott: A Tale of Three Couples—Saturday arvo flicks, late 1950s”
Fran Collins: An Invitation
Sitting in a café in Broome in the monsoonal heat of the Kimberley, I struck up a conversation with an American woman. She introduced me to an unconventional way of living. ‘How would I like to volunteer on a station out of Derby in an exciting new enterprise? It’s a unique project. It uses ecology-basedContinue reading “Fran Collins: An Invitation”
Rossana Mora: Roots
Memories of some chats I had with my father revolve in my head from time to time. Back when I was little, moving houses seemed to be our lifestyle. My parents were teachers and they were sent to a remote rural town at the beginning of their careers. Their wish was to move back toContinue reading “Rossana Mora: Roots”
Anne McKenzie: A Few Drinks
‘I think I’ll just walk down to the local pub for a few drinks,’ he says, smiling and looking directly at me. We’ve just got back from the airport and we’re having a cup of tea at my home. It’s the first time I’ve seen them face to face for seven years, as they’ve beenContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: A Few Drinks”
Lawrie Stanford: Conversations with Mary—When the chips are down
I eyed the bowl of chips carefully and selected the smallest, crispiest chip. Hmmmm, I thought, just how I like them—the crunchy feel, the fluffy cooked potato, the tang of salt and the moist, smoothness of cooking oil. I dived in for another. ‘When did you order them!’ Mary exclaimed, ‘You must have done itContinue reading “Lawrie Stanford: Conversations with Mary—When the chips are down”
Don Sinnott: Amateur car repairs, 1970s
Just a minor collision. A lady shopper reversing in the car park didn’t notice my wife, Wendy, driving past behind her. There was a crunch of deforming metal as her car’s rear end embedded itself in the passenger-side door of our car. The post-collision discussions lacked any heat—it was clear who was at fault andContinue reading “Don Sinnott: Amateur car repairs, 1970s”
Edie Eicas: Shared Memories
The 11th of February is my mother’s birth-day, and I realise there are memories that only she and I shared, and while I can still tell stories of our lives together, her input is no-longer available to me. In 1987 I was pregnant, and my eldest was crawling. Busy getting dinner ready for a party,Continue reading “Edie Eicas: Shared Memories”
Nell Holland: The Bargain
Chocolates and sticky cakes usually hold little temptation for me. But once one is sampled, although the brain says ‘stop’ my mouth takes no heed. Unfortunately, I must confess I’ve got pitiful willpower. On a recent shopping trip I saw a bag of chocolate caramels on sale for five dollars instead of the usual ten.Continue reading “Nell Holland: The Bargain”
Anne McKenzie: Skin Cancer
‘I’ve got the results of your biopsy and it’s an unusual result,’ he tells us. Marie and I look at one another, faces grim. I’ve been on this skin cancer journey long enough to know that ‘unusual’ is not good. It’s going to be as bad as ‘medically interesting’ was the last time. ‘So it’sContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Skin Cancer”
Sharon Apold: The Centurion And The Butterfly
You who are good, strong and whole you hold me as though I am a butterfly delicate, flighty, fleeting You who are solid, and calm and reliable you have your hands just outside my wings protecting, shielding, guarding You who are wise, kind and stable you look at me and watch my attempts at flightContinue reading “Sharon Apold: The Centurion And The Butterfly”
Robert Schmidt: The long, long, long weekend
Last Friday afternoon I needed to contact Helping Hand to stop a contractor coming on Wednesday afternoon 6th October to deliver tall boys and tables and collecting our old ones. I wanted to reschedule. Wednesdays I go on my Heart Foundation walk and once a month to an important lunch at the Glynde Hotel withContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: The long, long, long weekend”
Rossana Mora: Stevens-Johnson
The baby girls were born into a lovely family after a hard pregnancy for their mum, who had a massive belly that looked like it was going to be torn apart at any time. The baby born first is always claimed to be the strongest. The second one was born half an hour after theContinue reading “Rossana Mora: Stevens-Johnson”
Robert Schmidt: My Mask Day Blues
Jane and I drove to South Terrace to pick up an admission form for St Andrews hospital where Jane was to have a medical procedure. After hastily parking my Suzuki, I walk towards the entrance of the hospital. While walking, I fiddle in my jacket pocket for my mask. My mobile phone must have wrappedContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: My Mask Day Blues”
Fran Collins: An Adventure into Nature
An impulse to bend rules and indulge in some ‘risky business’, along with a big injection of hormonal lust, saw me accompany the sexy, blond-haired Sven on a trip to Banias Falls. Nineteen seventy-three. We were volunteers on Kibbutz[i] Amiad, in the Golan Heights, a stone’s throw from the Sea of Galilee and 40 kilometresContinue reading “Fran Collins: An Adventure into Nature”
Georgette Gerdes: Dances with Covid
lockdown appliances are friends I can hear the chatter Auntie ABC in the kitchen PK, Phillip and Norman Swann information updates doomsday whirring, twirling spinning sheets splashing, whooshing dirty plates cars drive by humming in tune LG – nascence of expanding waistlines bathed in fluorescent light yogurt, milk and mouldy left overs the main eventContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: Dances with Covid”
Nell Holland: Iolaire-The Gaelic Eagle
The most venerated date for all Scots is Hogmanay, the last day of December. It’s the night to feast the old year out and welcome in the new one, and in no place is it more celebrated than the Outer Hebrides. By the end of the Great War, the Isle of Lewis had lost overContinue reading “Nell Holland: Iolaire-The Gaelic Eagle”
Robert Schmidt: The Friendly Reminder
Normally I pay my bills on the day I receive an account. I have a perfect credit rating. My wife and I have a Home Care package from the government, which pays for certain work in our house. Mind you, not $10,000 for a fancy bed for my wife that we were talked into buyingContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: The Friendly Reminder”
Rossana Mora: José
Life is a journey they say, but I guess you only realise that it is an actual journey when the friends that used to be sitting next to you, watching your back, are no longer there. I have been fortunate enough to find good and honest people along my path. Today, I want to rememberContinue reading “Rossana Mora: José”
Anne McKenzie: Just a Small Garden Project
‘I think we should’ve started this when we were 10 bloody years younger!’ she says, brandishing the sledgehammer and chisel she’s been using for hours to chip away at the bricked wall of the in-ground fishpond in the back yard. ‘You’re not wrong there,’ I say. ‘Clearly we built it to last. We’d have noContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Just a Small Garden Project”
Lawrie Stanford: Fire Alarm
‘No, you won’t!’ Mary’s outburst was angry and insistent. ‘You’ve spent so little time with me and the kids because of your bloody devotion to work. The kids are on holidays and I’ve hired this beach shack, so you’ll damn-well stay with us.’ That was it, Mary’s outburst was compelling and there was no wayContinue reading “Lawrie Stanford: Fire Alarm”
David Hope: ‘Do I know you?’
Yesterday I went to Strathalbyn to catch up with some friends. Ian, Marilyn and I met in Alice Springs in 1971 (yes, 50 years ago). We were all working for the Commonwealth Government in different agencies. Young and single we were housed in a hostel where there was a fair amount of propinquity at work.Continue reading “David Hope: ‘Do I know you?’”
Edie Eicas: Chelsea Troubadours
Black boys walk the sunny streets sub-culture’s clothes black and white t-shirts and tight jogging pants, sneakers on trend, a motza’s worth, stylish hair: boy braids, cornrows, top knots creativity announces identity. A mob loud, demands space, leaves white walkers paranoid; distance divides as wary white faces look over shoulders, stop. A gang, it’s London’sContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Chelsea Troubadours”
Rossana Mora: Numbers
The Fields is the name of the nursing home that lies in the middle of the one of the nicest suburbs in Adelaide. Almost 80 percent of the residents are women, the oldest being 103 years old. They live within the four areas that are named after grains: oats, rice, barley and rye. Rye isContinue reading “Rossana Mora: Numbers”
Sharon Apold: Again
Not again! the floor drops beneath me I feel it go my body suspended mid-air the head in front of me still talking mouths moving words don’t match the shape they make sounds garbled echoing taunting my feet hang momentarily unaware of their vulnerability life moves around me I am not a part of itContinue reading “Sharon Apold: Again”
Robert Schmidt: Remember Me
I was sharing a pot of tea with my wife Jane at the Utzi Cafe in the Burnside Village ̶ next thing a former friend, well I think I’ll call him that, from my evenings at the Wildwood Gallery in Grenfell Street, comes up to the table. Wildwood Gallery had art on display but wasContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: Remember Me”
Fran Collins: Lost In Translation
‘I promise you it won’t be difficult or dangerous, really Fran.’ A simple request of deep friendship from my friend, Sinead. Belfast, 1973, a city besieged, with search checkpoints located strategically at turnstiles at the entrances to the CBD. Skeletal remains of buildings partially blown away, walls plastered with graffiti, evidence of a city atContinue reading “Fran Collins: Lost In Translation”
David Hope: The Fires Burn
The fires burn, the smoke thickens. Hotter still, the day quickens. Pushed by the wind, flames abscond. Sirens sound, firies respond. At the fire, hot work beckons. The fires burn, the smoke thickens. A wall of fire, massive front. Are we able to bear the brunt? The fires power, all consuming. Deal with this? We’reContinue reading “David Hope: The Fires Burn”
Don Sinnott: Memories of Mongolia
‘Let’s go somewhere different this year.’ Back in 2013, with international travel an expectation of our retirement plan, and a border-closing pandemic unthinkable, I had set my wife a challenge. An hour spent surfing travel sites and she emerged from the office triumphant. ‘How does a yak trek in Mongolia sound?’ Mongolia? My blank stareContinue reading “Don Sinnott: Memories of Mongolia”
Anne McKenzie: On The Bus
‘The Department is a bus about to set out on a long journey, and I’m driving’, says our new Chief Executive Officer. We’re at mandatory leadership training for Supervisors and Managers—for middle management. She’s been with us for about two weeks and this is the first time we’ve met her. ‘Let me put this simply’,Continue reading “Anne McKenzie: On The Bus”
Edie Eicas: Aurora
Aurora, basket in hand and smelling of Brasso, had just finished her weekly clean of the golden plate that announced the house name, Hendun. It was a meditative job, the polishing, the day’s early ritual before summer’s heat overpowered. The weather prediction for the coming school holidays was storms, a release from the building humidity.Continue reading “Edie Eicas: Aurora”
Nell Holland – The Book Launch
She was dressed completely in black leather. Black blouse open at the neck and a short, tight jacket straining at the bust. An equally tight mini skirt struggled to control her stomach, and the spike-heeled boots were thigh high. From behind, she appeared a young woman with red tresses falling below her shoulders. Then sheContinue reading “Nell Holland – The Book Launch”
Edie Eicas: Long-Range Weather Forecast
A Short Story Lennox Walker’s long-range weather forecast held no joy. The Miller family looked despondently at one another recognising the reality they prayed for would not materialize. No rescue for the farm in the grip of drought, Walker’s predictions promised more of the same: the El Nino weather pattern had set in and thingsContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Long-Range Weather Forecast”
Sharon Apold: The First Walk Home
The small girl walked along the long dusty track. Newspaper clutched to her chest and small brown school case held by her side. To a stranger, it would have appeared to be something she did daily. The determination on her face was deliberate. Fear and doubt were welling but she did not want to letContinue reading “Sharon Apold: The First Walk Home”
Sharon Apold: Dark Secrets
The woman sat down heavily on the time worn bench. It felt hard and cold beneath her thin skirt but somehow reliable, comforting. The day had been challenging. Neither young, nor old, on a good day, she could be beautiful. More from what shone in her eyes than the physical. On a bad day theContinue reading “Sharon Apold: Dark Secrets”
Sharon Apold: Dance with Dad
Beneath my hand I feel your shoulder bone Your smile is broad, careless, sweet I’m reminded of home Your step is neat Under my feet the floor feels grounding Your joy is open, blatant, obvious I’m almost crying Your dance oblivious Around my waist your arm holds tight Your eyes shine bright, clear, pale I’mContinue reading “Sharon Apold: Dance with Dad”
Georgette Gerdes: I’ve A Bone To Pick With You
It lies on the grass grisly and grainy; fat pokes out between the brittle maze of calcium castles, tufts of red flesh glistening, beckon a salivating dude, the main man. Sammy. He waits, alert, primed for action. ‘Sit, stay.’ He sits. He stays. The seconds are like minutes, are like hours, like an eternity. ‘GoContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: I’ve A Bone To Pick With You”
Robert Schmidt: Last Cab Off the Rank
I saw my urologist, Dr Wells, late on the day of my horrible flow test. ’You still have 800mls in your bladder,’ he informs me. ‘If I were you, I’d be rolling around on the floor.’ Charming, I think. Surgery was set for the 12th September. Admission at 5.00pm? Everyone says to me the surgeryContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: Last Cab Off the Rank”
Robert Schmidt: The COVID-19 Adventure – Part 2
On Monday evening arrive home from the Royal Adelaide Hospital by taxi with our masks on. Take mine off in a hurry. ‘Going to be a long seventy-two hours Jane,’ I sigh. Suspend walking with my friends and social activities. No one can actually come inside our home. Self isolation you know. Fortunately we haveContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: The COVID-19 Adventure – Part 2”
Robert Schmidt: The COVID-19 Adventure – Part 1
My wife Jane has been feeling unwell for a few weeks. Her symptoms became flu-like in recent days. We both have had our vaccinations. Her doctor yesterday suggested she have a COVID-19 test. ‘I’ll get the results almost instantly,’ she says to me. We decide to get a taxi to the Royal Adelaide Hospital straightaway.Continue reading “Robert Schmidt: The COVID-19 Adventure – Part 1”
Robert Schmidt: Your Call Is Important To Us
Recently I was required to have a blood test. I have several questions to ask over the phone before having it. There is a 1300 number you can ring. I dial the number. It rings a while, and then a recorded message cuts in, ‘Your call is important to us. We will be with youContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: Your Call Is Important To Us”
Robert Schmidt: The Flow Test
Two weeks ago I had a flow study and a bladder scan. The tests identify how well you empty your bladder. A few weeks earlier a CT scan of my bladder and only kidney, had identified a problem down below. On the day of the flow I drink a litre of water in the hourContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: The Flow Test”
Nell Holland: The Twin-Tube Tale
Their first washing machine, a Twin Tub Hoovermatic (TTH) bought in 1960, was invaluable when two babies arrived in two years. Then, in January 1965, Tom said they were going to exchange their Scottish existence for tropical heat. Molly had no idea where the Solomon Islands were but the thought of sunshine, rather than iceContinue reading “Nell Holland: The Twin-Tube Tale”
Lawrie Stanford: It’s the Spoof!
To the Editor, Guns USA Magazine; from Chuck (‘Spoof’) Gunn-Smith Jnr I am a proud Amerigun, and carry firearms just for fun. To shoot them little critters and keep them on the run. I wanna be like my ol’ Pa, so he’s proud of his first son. He’s a good up-standing man, a gun-totin’Continue reading “Lawrie Stanford: It’s the Spoof!”
Nell Holland: One Man and His Dog
It was the distant view that he liked. He could stand on this ridge and look over the tree canopy as far as Outer Harbour on a clear day. But not today. Today, the sun created stippled shadows, through trees flanking the path he’d just walked with the dog. The light occasionally blinded him, asContinue reading “Nell Holland: One Man and His Dog”
Nell Holland: Double-Decker Day
The double decker buses of my childhood were the only mode of transport my family used on a regular basis as we didn’t own a car, and neither did anyone else I knew My favourite position on those red Midland buses, was upstairs, sitting right at the front where the wide windows gave an elevatedContinue reading “Nell Holland: Double-Decker Day”
Georgette Gerdes: Spectrum
Why are you crying little girl? Lips buttoned, eyes red, snot dribbles, fingernails pick at scabbed bleeding scalp. What’s wrong sweetie? The void immense, a gulf abyss. The meltdown continues. Tears drizzle from bloodshot pools, pools hiding pain, in a room large and echoing, empty and cold. Meaning isContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: Spectrum”
Lawrie Stanford: Timeless Tales Retold in Verse – On the Farm
Dad took us up to Angie’s farm to visit his older sister. He said we’d likely stay four weeks, it’d been a while and he missed her. We were greeted there with bad news, ‘Feathers’ the fowl had just expired. No more cluck-cluck or peck-peck’n, she was old and had grown so tired. Continue reading “Lawrie Stanford: Timeless Tales Retold in Verse – On the Farm”
Nell Holland: Dee Time
She wasn’t the best nurse in our student year, but she was the one we all wanted to copy for style. Dee would have been more at home on Carnaby Street than the world of a hospital training school. It was 1962 and with her geometric hairstyle fitting under her nurse’s cap like a polishedContinue reading “Nell Holland: Dee Time”
Don Sinnott: House Hunting
They were rosellas. No doubt about it—dead ringers of those on the sauce bottle. The brilliant birds appeared in our yard a few weeks ago, paired off for the breeding season. But surely it’s still winter, the sap has yet to rise, avian ardour must lie dormant. Yet there they were, a devoted couple, clearlyContinue reading “Don Sinnott: House Hunting”
Nell Holland: Calladine
The Calladine brothers volunteered to fight in World War 2. Albert and Sid were killed, and George returned without legs. Tommy was ‘lucky’ with no obvious wounds, though his mind was gnawed with distress; folk called it shell shock. In 1940 Tommy had been a self-assured eighteen-year-old, charming old ladies attracting girls and breaking hearts.Continue reading “Nell Holland: Calladine”
Nell Holland: Best of Times
The baby-breath touch of the zephyr lifted her hair, whispering softly over her cheek. She felt in harmony with this land, but she’d forgotten this summit was so popular. People had gathered to enjoy the view at this time of the full moon. and most were couples, just as she and Gavin had once been.Continue reading “Nell Holland: Best of Times”
Sharon Apold: She Left Alone
My Grandmother looked at me. Her eyes shone in her pale face, searching for the comfort of recognition. I know she saw the silhouetted figure and heard the voice of a woman holding her hand. My hand. I could tell I was still familiar to her, but somehow difficult for her to trust between theContinue reading “Sharon Apold: She Left Alone”
Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Part 5
I have a philosophy when it comes to trees and global warming. My position is that if you drive a car, you plant trees to offset your carbon miles. As a result, I proselytize; annoying a number of people but feel I have a responsibility, no matter what. My friends will tell you I’m tangential;Continue reading “Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Part 5”
Nell Holland: A Great Party
Too many friends had died. She needed cheering up, so Tony proposed a party. But the day arrived, and Ann still felt miserable. Preparations completed, she took ten minutes to try to find some serenity. Her eyes closed, and slowly she relaxed. It seemed seconds later when guitar music opened her eyes. Howard and RickContinue reading “Nell Holland: A Great Party”
Sharon Apold: I Am Awake
Night… we meet again and again and again. In spite of my objection, for hours we will joust. Sleep, the elusive. I will grasp my pillow, wring that comfort dry. Night… you will shine your moon. I will toss, turn, defy your silent gloom. Awake… In that awful hour. The one of deathly quiet whenContinue reading “Sharon Apold: I Am Awake”
Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 3 and 4
Murder Another year and I still hadn’t learnt about scraps composting through the garden. The pumpkin seeds had generated again, and another group of vines spread through the front. At first it was water conservation and I ignored them but, with finding the first Butternut, a new plan emerged. I began watering in earnest. TheContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 3 and 4”
Lawrie Stanford: Stranger Danger
The officer was polite but firm while her male companion had a look that was more firm than polite. The female officer was the first to speak. ‘Sir, you’ve heard of stranger-danger, haven’t you?’ Earlier, I arrived home late from work, a little before 7pm. As I walked through the front door, I could hearContinue reading “Lawrie Stanford: Stranger Danger”
Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 1 and 2
The Garden I like to think of myself as a perma-culturist, a euphemism for a haphazard gardener. I’m the kind of person that if I eat something with seeds inside, I save the seeds. I’ve had peaches, nectarines, pomegranates, tomatoes, cucumber, peppers the list goes on. But, like any fertilized seed, what you get isContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 1 and 2”
Maarten van de Loo: Deaf sentence
Listen how this fellow, getting older thought he would never be in strife. Fit and strong and a little bolder, having posted the decades up to five, he couldn’t hear his wife. ‘What is the matter now with you? listen!’ ‘Yes, I do, if you play too!’ ‘Ayeeeeh! What d’ya saaay?’ that’s the cry theContinue reading “Maarten van de Loo: Deaf sentence”
Nell Holland: Remember
I was born in England in a small Derbyshire town not far from a place called Eyam. It’s a beautiful area and I’ve always respected Eyam’s history, but now the world is gripped by a pandemic I applaud the forward thinking of its 17th century inhabitants. In 1665 the villagers isolated themselves so outsiders wouldn’tContinue reading “Nell Holland: Remember”
Nell Holland: This Man
He was by my side all week, and I laughed aloud as he attempted suicide. I know suicide isn’t funny, and I didn’t want him to die by his own hand, but every attempt was skittled in such ridiculous ways that I couldn’t help myself. Incompetence didn’t prevent his death, so it must have beenContinue reading “Nell Holland: This Man”
Burnside Writers Group 