Issue Fourteen • Issue Fourteen Poetry • Poetry
June 6, 2023
things, in places Maria Griffin here, a thing. behind it: another. there, a third. three things sit, each in its place, as if...
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CONTENT WARNING : This work contains material that some readers may find disturbing; please continue at your own discretion. Confession at...
Issue Fourteen • Issue Fourteen Non-Fiction • Non-Fiction
In search of identity Rose Saltman In 1994, I voted in the elections of two countries. I was a citizen of only one of them. ...
Number one story street By Claire Baxter John I remember Christmas day. It might have been Christmas 1940 – maybe 1939 – when...
Fiction • Issue Fourteen • Issue Fourteen Fiction
The Golden Apple Eric Tian It took place at midnight, on the field across the bank. My acquaintance stepped out of the boat,...
The Magic Cow Eric Tian The cow came in March. By May, it was all over. I must write this down so I, too, do not forget our history. It...
Diamond Beach Days Angela Fitzpatrick 1965 Daisy sat at the café table gazing out the window at the promenade as tears ran down...
Lingchi Jon Culp i Inherited a pair of right-handed scissors- from depths of the basket of twist-thread and patterns beside...
Irish Green Ann Kathryn Kelly I am from an Irish Clan’s love, strong as bedrock, deep as ocean. The baby in the family almost...
A HISTORY OF CHESS Mark Mitchell I am still a victim of chess… —Marcel Duchamp I was not born under stone mountains in...
This Peter Loveday If all the lines begin with who, or why, or how pointing directly at what they want to know what hope is there in...
Issue Thirteen • Issue Thirteen Poetry • Poetry
May 24, 2022
By Jesse Fleming “J.J. Astor, the richest man on board and a pariah in American polite society, was redeemed by his self-sacrificing...
Fiction • Issue Thirteen • Issue Thirteen Fiction
By Penny George “I’m pregnant,” she said. Gabriel stood frozen. “Isn’t that wonderful news babe? I mean, of course, it’s a...
By Alison Knight They’ll be coming to fetch me soon. It’s me big day! Lots of people out there. I can hear them through me window....
Issue Thirteen • Issue Thirteen Non-Fiction • Non-Fiction
By Peter Mitchell (1985) It was January. The party at the Wellington Boot raged into the night. Platters of food were spread around the...
By Jane Downing Rita put her lesson plan to one side in frustration. Her cup of tea was cold. In one way there was too much material on the...
Issue Thirteen • Issue Thirteen Book Reviews • Reviews
By Chloe Britton Written by Professors Katy Barnett and Jeremy Gans from the law school of the University of Melbourne, Guilty Pigs is a...
By Juliett Salom They say he was here. A horse under his legs and the world strapped on his shoulders, they say he came to rob and steal...
Interviews • Issue Thirteen • Issue Thirteen Interviews
By Matthew Goodall Craig Sherborne is a poet, playwright, and novelist. His debut memoir Hoi Polloi was shortlisted for both the Queensland...
By Peter Loveday We climb up into the branches of the old tree, twist off the mandarins and launch them high into the air where they grow...
by Lilanka Botejue “I am not in my right senses. Those eyes, those lips and those beautifully wide hips have long been my lure and my...
By Devika Brendon A long time ago, nearly a quarter of a century, now, I visited Iceland, during the brief summer, a place and time where...
By Joshua Klarica Even though I have stood here more times than I could count, in the chattering cold of mid-winters dawn, and bleaks...
By Magdalena Ball Her grandparents were forced to take last names. How to choose: occupation, toponym, personal qualities, lineage?...
By David Atkinson Who’ll go a round or two for a pound or two? — Jimmy Sharman The town’s tough, unlimited...
By Peter Mitchell ‘They walk the edge, and from the edge fly out, testing and trying out their lives’ Potiki, Patricia Grace...
By Bill Cotter Memories of hay carting in the early 1960’s, Western Victoria The Bedford coughs, lurches, and stops by the hay...
By Hibah Shabkhez Flocking and gawking at the piece of clay We excavate profound thoughts like toothpaste Dredged up from an empty tube....
By Hibah Shabkhez From the sunlit fringes of cloud Yesterday’s ghost watches You, counting your footsteps aloud Like ounces of black...
