A collection of sketches, poems, vignettes set in contemporary Australia. Vaguely post-migrant, not exclusively so.
A nice man! Tall, but not too tall, because then you -- you too short, eh-mar, for a very tall man with a beard...
Now, before I forget, darlin', here's your prezzie, you love Milk Tray, I remember you do, don't you?
hello, face! you are a useful thing.
when you have altered beyond recognition
Three hundred and sixty degrees she turned, and as if trapped in an early version of a three dimensional gamer's world, she turned and turned and only saw her face. She had no sides, no curves but for the hourglass defining her.
Her mother could not find a photographer. No one sits at the bridal table. Beloved's friends are not by her side.
When I visited Over There, it had been forty two years since I left. Every second question was 'why aren't you married'. Gone forty two years and there's no 'how are you, what do you do, tell us about your life!' No, it's all, 'where's your husband? Where's your boyfriend? Why aren't you married?'
Still, she's never been much for others, my mother: at the time I didn't know if she realised her sister was actually on her deathbed, but now I'm starting to think she just had no sympathy for the situation.
you're amazing! don't forget to wash your hands
She is polite to these strangers around her, radiates love, affection, hoping they will not hurt her. The same as when she came to this place the first time, her anger and the fear unexpected. Be polite, be modest, be loveable, and the strangers won't hurt her.
...no, I'm thinking, oh no, no, no, did I really eat all that frozen bread, I'm not supposed to eat flour! I'm not supposed to eat bread! -- and I'm thinking of all those wasted days, days I tell you, of half-starving and it's all gone down the toilet like a huge gluten-fat floaty turd, you know, those slick yellow ones, I can't fight myself if I'm going to eat while I'm sleeping...
Gilt with sentiment, he should not have been surprised to see her wedding ring atop the dresser where he habitually discarded his own.
For your information and in regards to any further technical queries, please be aware that the gentleman with whom you associated is no longer with the company.
suburban bane of shiftworkers, us night walkers and they; the canine chorus multiplies, heralding our way.
The children understood her competence in adversity even without language, for how often must she have been mocked to have learned her fluid, unemotional pre-emptive strategy?
If with no consideration for the fate of ferns.
suddenly he left the room
On the sofa, their commentary faces forwards, as though the television is their audience, and their life is a kind of inverted pantomime.
However searing the sun, space was never a glorious frontier.
along with your shadow let your accent lengthen
Flicking between trite morning offerings, they come across a show listing in an astoundingly compressed point form (that is, under five criteria per side) the reasons why marriages succeed or fail.
on the air the smell of haloumi grilling
A home just isn't complete without Nazi memorabilia, one salesman says.
Fifteen new workplaces in seventeen years, always with oversized men, the labouring hulks of the south-east corridor, too proud or smart to be unemployed, too proud or stubborn to get a trade. He makes himself fit in.
Well, a kid's going to cost a lot. Add that to the negatives.