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A ray of sunshine pierced its way through the encrusted dirt on the window. It had been many years since a window cleaner had paid a visit to the cottage in the woods, if ever. The light danced across the room, settling on a spot on the far side of the heavy oak table, forming a little pool of light. A spotlight, Gilda thought, remembering how, in another heartbeat, she had been drawn to the light, adored using her voice, her body, to create a spectacle on stage. It had been

Kezia reached the middle of the balance beam and wobbled. Shaking her head, she jumped down, took a few deep breaths and tried again. Another wobble, in exactly the same place. For two weeks now this had been happening and she knew she had to get her shit together before the competition. She could feel Coach watching from across the gym as she gave it another shot. Same again. Frustrated she grunted, leapt from the beam and headed for the changing room.   Standing in front of

Truffles are unique. They aren’t like fruits that ripen even if separated from a plant: they’re a fungus that stops ripening when removed from the ground.   It was the dead of night, lit only by a canopy of stars and there was a distinct chill in the air as the cloaked figure moved out of the shelter of a clump of trees, a large dog by their side. This land that sat above the woodland already claimed by a farmer, was a rich source of black truffles, one of the richest in the

Are we malleable enough to be manageable, us wild women, artists, writers, activists, rebels with a cause? Do we need a man to plan our day, ensuring his expectations are met, nay exceeded even? Must we have a boss who steals our ideas, taking all the credit and leaving us micro-managed and empty? Thoughts on the back of a postcard please.   My postcard has a picture of a baby, round-cheeked and charming. Cherubic mouth surrounded with ice-cream, blowing a raspberry to the wo

The Rain Came   The summers got hotter and hotter every year and this one had been a doozy. The hi-lifers in their mansions and castles atop the hills didn't care. They had everything they needed for a life of luxury; air conditioning, cool marble floors, swimming pools and fountains. Some of them had statues of themselves sculpted to stand at the entrance or in their lush, green gardens.   In the valley, the lo-lifers sweated and toiled on the land, growing many varieties of

She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing.    

For the longest time I felt as though my heart had stopped beating, even though I could still breathe. Yet even breathing became difficult and I struggled to catch a breath so many times during the long, long days that echoed your departure. You had been my world, the spark that lit up my life. Now, everything felt flat, dull, permeated with a rot that seeped into the very bones of me, making them brittle, rendering me unable to move. I don't know how long I stayed that way,

As an olive-skinned girl growing up in a solidly white world, I hated my dark brown eyes. I wanted blue ones like my purely English cousins and the neighbourhood kids. One of my early memories is of my Mum telling me how much she hated taking me for my check-ups as a baby. Apparently, the other babes were plump, pale and rosy-cheeked, happy little cherubs. In contrast, I was prematurely scrawny, dark and had a shock of black hair, Mohican style. I also screamed. A lot. My Mum

Justice is the ethical, philosophical idea that people are to be treated impartially, fairly, properly, and reasonably by the law and by arbiters of the law, that laws are to ensure that no harm befalls another, and that, where harm is alleged, a remedial action is taken .   Thank you Wikipedia.   I no longer believe in justice, I have no faith in the law or those who are appointed to uphold it. If we can allow war criminals to run countries while committing genocide, there i

As a teenager, I was just a little obsessed with shoes, with clothes and dressing up full stop to be precise. This was back in the days when underage drinking was the norm, and the law was rarely enforced. The whole week was spent planning outfits for Friday and Saturday night, and, of course, you could never wear the same one twice. A lot of my clothes were bespoke, created by my talented mother on her old sewing machine from patterns I adapted. Others came from the one bout

When Cherry died, she was alone. Not necessarily lonely but alone. She had wheeled herself out onto the wide veranda that wrapped itself around the house and found a space amongst the old books, newspapers and other junk that someone else would have to sort through. That made her smile. The vultures had been hovering for some time now, direct descendants, distant relatives, the neighbour who kept the garden in some semblance of order. Cherry had stopped speaking to them a lon

Garrett looked across the table at his Queen. She was gazing into the distance, taking a break from the not-so-scintillating conversations she had been engaged in with the men on either side of her. Her face, in repose, was both determined and cruel. A potentially lethal combination, heightened by the sharp edges of her cheekbones. Garrett was still getting to know Elowen as a wife. They had only been wed for six months, an arranged marriage as was the custom in Kandara among

"Will you catch me if I fall?" I survey your sweet face, the trust in your eyes. I am strong, I am young. I will catch you. "In a heartbeat," I answer. You jump, and my invisible wings guide you to a safe landing, my breath drawing a gossamer heart around you as you turn to me and smile. Your smile is the sunshine that warms my world, that wraps tendrils of compassion around my beating heart. Together we travel through ticking time and soaring space. We do not need anybody el

Today's post is a tale of solidarity and community. It begins as all good tales should.   Once upon a time, in a rural Tasmanian community, women could readily access a free and crucial breast scan facility by boarding Luna, a bus equipped with all the technology required to carry out this essential service. When I settled here, just over a year ago, I knew as a breast cancer survivor that this could be a lifesaver for some women. Eight years ago, I lost an extremely close fr

He makes a red-carpet entrance On the tarmac of a runway In a country far away From the chaos he has orchestrated In the land of the free.   The sycophants and psychopaths wait Coifed and groomed A token blonde or two For 'his majesty's' pleasure. They look strained.   As they stand on this land That is not theirs That never was or will be Waiting for the self-appointed Saviour of the Middle East.   The Golden Age of Israel The past swept under the red carpet They now stand o

Outside, there is yet another gale blowing, and my thoughts are scattered, my brain jumping from one to another in an incoherent, yet...

Ethyn stood in the doorway, fishing gear in hand, bucket hat on head. The morning held all the promise of blooming into a beautiful day...

My Grandmother was always proud of her hair. When she was young it was copper-bright, thick, and luxurious, falling in waves down to her...

You left the house before I woke. I heard the screech of your tires as you pulled away, pedal to the metal as always. So impatient, maybe...

There's no place like home, a line made famous by Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz in 1939, as the world was still recovering from the loss of...