Category: Issue Twelve Fiction

By Louise Sapphira Little time remains in the afternoon before the Melbourne musical production at the historic Daisy House theatre. I start fidgeting with my fingernails, scraping the edges of my right thumb. Butterflies gradually creep into my stomach. Will I be disappointed tonight, falling into the regrettable trap of oversharing? But are more secrets…

By Mark O’Flynn Lionel has emphysema. This might be the most serious of his problems, but it certainly isn’t the only one. Compounding this is the fact that he receives little or no treatment for his condition, but is subject to a fair degree of indifference. It’s death by a thousand cuts. This is because…

By Jacob Pilkington   Sirens ululated in the distance. He could feel the air cling to him. All the drops of him leaked out on the ground in a puddle of horror-movie red. He knew he’d caught a bullet to the head, and this was how he was going to check out. Then the tumbling…

By Vanessa Perera As I sat carefully blowing into a spoonful of steaming basmati rice and tinned mackerel curry, my homesickness worsened. I had grown tired of eating cheap cornflakes and lactose-free milk for every meal over the past five months since I arrived in Melbourne. On some days, I would add a handful of…

By Danyel Deran All the way in the most livable city, the most unlivable man lived.  It’s so hard being me. I’m so very lost in this world, but I should be grateful because a homeless man just walked in. He’s dressed like a chimney, smells like one too and head to toe, every viable piece…

By Lyssa Stevens 12-03-21 What if the clouds were alien spaceships that monitor humans? 2020 would make a lot more sense if we were an experiment that went completely out of their control. We became a few too many, and how perfect a pandemic is to kill some of us off. But what if the…

By Samuel M Johnston The light seeps through the blinds, engulfing the studio in a harsh glow. My hands wrap around the sculpture, gliding down each curve, adjusting each scuff so it can be perfect. My work is almost complete. I glance to the side. The mirror reflects the sunken eyes of an artist trying…

By A. Rogers Pasta, pizza, and dumplings. I feel as if I measure our life by how many pastas, pizzas and dumplings we’ve had. Can a relationship be summed up in three things? If they can, this one would be pasta, pizza, and dumplings.  You meet me at my work.  Pasta.  Bowls of pasta in…

By Jena Woodhouse A poet came to live in Raven Street. The people of that neighbourhood were not in awe of anyone. The man was a stranger, but they did not find him strange. He was poor like them; his winter clothes were threadbare and of a bygone era. The poet seemed at home in…

By Jacob Pilkington He blinks. Psy-cannons exerted themselves above the barriers, screaming as they shot into the icy distance of the frozen world. With their backs to the shields, Jaymes Rissen crouched with the other soldiers, a laser symphony playing over their heads. A boy came around with cold coffee. Jaymes looked further up the…

 By Bek Klinko The world felt different when Jack woke up.       He couldn’t feel the wall when he stretched. His limbs twisted at odd angles. The sheets were heavier. He blinked.      His little log cabin looked larger than it was the night before. Everything was bigger and deeper and brighter. Jack tried to get up…

By Bethany Lo-Han Pull, strike, splutter, repeat. Pull, strike, splutter, repeat. Camille Mejía’s world had stopped the day her wife’s body had been discovered. Months had passed since the tragic find, and life had moved on, but Camille’s mind had remained trapped in the moment. She hadn’t taken on a case since. Attempting to work…

By Roseanna Smith Edith Rigby knew the grocer at the local corner store didn’t want to sell her cheese and milk that day. He never wanted to anymore. Entering his store, she heard every whisper from the other customers and clocked the way their eyebrows danced in disgust. The grocer looked her over with his…