Issue 11

Sam V. H. Reese: Atlantis

His voice was familiar, the way a hot bath feels. But it took me a moment to place his face. I hadn’t noticed him enter the café; now he had one of my tea bowls in his hand, turning it as if to catch the light.

Andrew Stiggers: The Book Parade Prize

Over in the playground a white rabbit in a waistcoat is being chased by a barefoot girl kiwi. Everybody’s got a story to tell, Jim knows. From the deck outside the classrooms he observes the children—all dressed as colourful book characters—gather for the parade in the schoolyard below.

Conrad Smyth: 147 Days and Counting

I stand amongst gaunt bodies in a corral on Staten Island. The air smells of car exhaust and spandex. Music plays from loud speakers punctuated by brief fits of extraterrestrial radio crackle.

Stephen O’Connor: Red Rock Creek

“What shall we do?’ said the boy trepidly. “Bury it,” said the farmer matter-of-factly. Father and son looked down from the high spur overlooking Red Rock Creek to the body of one of the prized merinos.

Stephen Coates : Maelstrom

“It’s not a whirlpool, I don’t reckon,” I said. “You can’t have a whirlpool without water. Can you?”

The elderly man on my left paused in the act of peeling a mandarin, his moist eyes blinking as if I’d called him back from some distant dream.