A metaphor for wilting flowers

I wasn’t going to write about you anymore. I wasn’t going to give you the time. But my thoughts are full and overflowing and I need to make space for new things, new pathways, new experiences, new connections. I need to eradicate the memory of a thousand conversations, the feel of your body and the... Continue Reading →

The heavy weight of words unsaid

A tangle of limbs on my bed. Our breath, that had been coming fast and hard, gradually slows. The skin on the underside of his bicep was smooth against my cheek, my hand thrown across his chest.  It had been so long since we’d seen each other and while the sex felt the same, everything... Continue Reading →

Something frozen on a train

I find it near impossible to write about things I don’t know. And Pinterest tells me that writing only about what you know makes you a very dull writer indeed. Every month, the Australian Writers’ Centre holds a short story competition, Furious Fiction. They post a set of criteria about which you have to write... Continue Reading →

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