I always dreamt of having a greyhound long little face, tiny little nose, Shy personality. She would be my star. Fall into my arms little one. Collapse into love. I’d rescue her from the track a shy personality at first, then it will come back the little tail wags turn into a propeller running from one end of the park to the next. Things are getting better, my star is settling and growing into something brand new together, we cast spells, my little alchemist and I turning tra

‘What happened?’ ‘She collapsed.’ ‘The weather is mild so it’s not the heat.’ ‘Must be something else.’ ‘Maybe she had a shock!’ ‘Maybe, or she’s faking it to get out of the exam!’ ‘No, she wouldn’t do that!’ ‘Don’t bet on it, I know her better than you do.’ ‘I’ve known her for longer so I know her better than you so there!’ ‘I guess we’d better call the ambulance, she’s been unconscious for a while.’ ‘How long should we wait for her to wake up – it’s too

One Two Three Father caught a flea Mother caught a bigger one And put it on his knee Flea died Father cried One Two Three Too funny for me Collapse, laughing

‘Ah, the Hittites.’ Her eyes fix on a distant horizon, somewhere a few kilometres beyond the concrete wall of the room. ‘Get her out! Get her out! She’s going to start talking about the Bronze Age Collapse!’ ‘How rude. I was merely considering the relevance of the predations of the Sea People to modern immigration debates.’ ‘The hell you were. You were going straight to the Minoans there, without passing Go.’ She sits back with a martyred air, folding her hands in her

Katie was long tall, thin and gorgeous. Men flocked around her. Having been like that since birth there was always someone to flock. First, it was the parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. ‘Oh she's so gorgeous!’ they constantly exclaimed. The problem came as she grew up. The constant praise constant admiration and constant verbalising of her amazing physical attributes meant she knew full well how special she was. This conversely meant that she didn't have any negative at

26 opportunities to submit next month. 1 December: Hawkeye Publishing Manuscript Development Prize Open to emerging and established writers. Accepts unpublished commercial fiction and nonfiction, including adult fiction, YA, middle-grade, picture books and nonfiction. Adult manuscripts up to 80,000 words. Entry Fee: 45AUD standard, 99AUD ‘Enhanced’ entry. Two winners, one in the Open category and one in the Own Voices category. Prizes: a trade publishing contract (subject to

“If I only knew what I did with it.” “What?” “You know, that thing, I put it somewhere, fuck I don’t know” as he throws things on the table scattering the pens and pads and fake flower bowl. “It's here somewhere! What is it? Did I say? I’m sure I put it here somewhere! Blast, have you seen it?” “I …don’t know what you’re looking for Sir.” “The thing; the thing we were discussing, you know we were talking about it on how wonderful it was. I put it somewhere.” “Sir,

Sheila was out of her comfort zone; her motto was Be PREPARED! She’d been a scout in her younger years, and liked the structure of the meetings. She knew exactly what to expect. Sheila had the same salad for lunch every day, followed by a piece of fruit – she accepted that it wasn’t the same piece of fruit every day. She could live with that! One time she had been in hospital and apart from the ‘procedure’ she quite like the rhythm of hospital routines. She was in the m

If one has DPD, (Disorganised Personality Disorder) which I do, then one is, by nature, unprepared. Unprepared for Al. Lost everything. Prepared only for the next occurrence of unpreparedness... Which, in this case involved taking the dog for a walk... As usual I wore socks only.... I take every opportunity to do so... This time it proved to be a mistake. Dog and I were having a joyous time roaming through the bush before we returned to the house, refreshed after our outing

1 November: The Scribble Annual Short Story Competition Open to all, short story max 3,000 words, theme: ‘A Slice of Luck’. Entry fee: £5. Prizes: £100, £50, £25, and publication in the winter 2026 edition. 4 November: Simpson Prize Competition Open to: Year 9 & 10 students. Essay or video 1,200 – 1,500 words, or 10 minute video with maximum of 400 word explanation. Theme: ‘How useful are artefacts and artwork as historical sources when researching the experience of Austral

The September meeting This month’s warm-up exercise was a short critiquing practice. Everyone teamed up to read three short pieces and give constructive, specific feedback. There was a surprising degree of consensus about what worked well and what could be improved. We also decided that it would be useful to have the opportunity to re-write the prompt pieces at a future writing session – duly noted! You can read the pieces we looked at and decide what you think. What would

Soul-less. He can always spot them. As if there were some sort of magnetic attraction. Magnets work both ways. They attract – and are attracted to – the item. He wondered which was the magnet – he or them? They have a particular way of walking, way of holding themselves. Unwanted? Defiant? He searched for a word that best described them. Unwanted, unsure and defiant. They wander late at night, collecting others like them as they go. Immediately, they become prey. That’s how h

Soul food Soul music Good for the soul Soul mates It was a friendship that stretched across decades – from year 3 to the present. He declared his love for her at the age of 14 and they had a brief physical relationship until one night it occurred to her that she just kissed her brother. The thought made her want to puke! Her actual brother was cruel and couldn’t be confided in. She said out loud I can’t do this. I just want us to be friends. Reluctantly he agreed, but eve

Energy cannot be created or destroyed – they say. To casual observation, this seems like a blatant lie. Energy-destroying factors multiply like bacteria, eating motion, volition, ambition, gumption, and any number of desirable ‘itions’. Supposing the physicists are correct, this begs the question – where is that energy going? If it can only be transformed, not destroyed, what is being energised as languidity increases on the other end? Does the traffic light glow bright

When I think about my grandmother's kitchen, I remember the smell first. It was always warm and comforting, and there was usually something delicious cooking on the stove. My grandmother was a very kind person who loved having her grandchildren around. She would smile and tell us stories while she prepared dinner. The kitchen itself was quite small, with yellow walls and an old wooden table. I can still remember sitting there after school, watching rain run down the window wh

He looked deeply into her eyes and saw nothing. No glimmer of intelligence nor spark of hope. Just dull black unblinking staring back. Not shuffling nor shifting, just deep wells of jet. Unmoving. Her tail was still, limp, non-engaged. She didn’t shuffle nor move; just a large pure-black wall of muscle, legs locked. “It’s OK girl. You are safe. It’s OK, don’t be afraid” as a long low guttural menace welled through slobbering, parted lips. Not showing teeth but oo

The marriage had been short. But deadly. She stood there looking at the bodies. Blank eyes looked at her. Why had they done this? The woman had a gunshot wound to her stomach. Her face was in pain. How dramatic. What an end to a life that had no hope, no support, no help, no soul. It was just a life, in constant emotional pain. The torment she endured in the marriage followed her into death. Soul-less eyes stared… No cried out in pain. Pain from the physical pain, but pain fr

Some like it hot Some like it cold Some like it in the pot And nine days old. I’m not sure to what the above refers. May be breakfast May be lunch May be porridge May be tea May be coffee How does this relate to ‘soul’? I’m not sure, but we can all make our own assumption And ‘save my soul’! Thank you

Mrs Bell had always been an extremely tidy woman, and her cottage was absolutely spotless. She was very upset when she discovered the muddy footprint on the kitchen floor. It was large, black and rather horrible. She immediately knew something was wrong. She went into the garden to investigate, feeling quite nervus. The garden was beautiful, with colourful flowers everywhere and a lovely old apple tree in the middle. Suddenly, she noticed that one of the branches was broken.

Milo was the smallest dragon in the kingdom, but he wanted to be brave more than anything. One morning, he decided to climb the tallest mountain. It was a very big mountain, and the climb was extremly difficult. Milo was tired and scared, but he kept going because he was determined. At the top, he saw the most amazing thing he had ever seen. A tiny golden door was set into the rock. Milo knocked three times. From inside came a voice. “At last,” it said. “We’ve been waiting fo