Issue 14

Connie Buchanan: Roadside Goat

There are some roadside goats, tethered to lonely triangles of tin, who used to be loved. Handpicked just after birth by a girl and a boy clinging onto a wire fence.

Kathryn van Beek: Speaking in Tongues

Paul reaches for Dawn’s hand and squeezes it roughly. He has a knack for interrupting her when she wants to be mentally alone. He points out the window at the sunbeams piercing the clouds below them.

Poppie Johnson: Nights of Everywhere

I remember our first night everywhere cos Māmā always takes us somewhere special to tell us about the whakapapa of a place. She says knowing our history helps us to know ourselves. Our whanau is always on the move.

Sue Kingham: Blown off Course

It had been the wettest week since records began. Three streets away the river threatened to break its banks and, around midnight, it did. Several cars were submerged to the tops of their wheel arches, and a silver Mazda bobbed away like a bath toy.

Emer Lyons: Chicken Skin

Her skin is raw and pink, fleshy-soft like the fat chicken fillets my mother brings home from the butcher’s that I poke through the plastic bag. I reach out into the darkness of the garage and stroke the tips of my fingers along the back of the girl’s neck.