“What do you mean I can’t go? We always go!! You promised us we would go. This is not fair; I always buy a big bag of Lollygobbleblissbombs. You promised mummy. It’s not fair, its its…” Marty breaks down to dribbling and whining as he stamps his feet and thumps his little fists into the un-mowed grass. This seems to bother the bull ants who are looking for any passing picnic at the time and don’t like the idea of being hit in the head by a snotty nosed 15yr old spoilt bra

I grew up in California, in a little town. My father sent me to buy a chocolate. I went to the store on my bike and had just enough to buy the chocolate.   Later that day after buying the chocolate I found the wrapper and there was a winning ticket voucher with golden wrapping, saying   ‘Come to Charlie’s chocolate factory and meet the crew and tour the factory.’   Dad said wow, great, it’s this Friday, two days away. I was greatly surprised and was all ready for the day.   T

She felt the call arrive in her body. She could feel the insistence, the desperation, the intense feeling of uncontrollable rage. She walked out onto the deck and with wings outcast she cannoned into the sky.   She followed the feeling but it was strange. It was a dark feeling on a dark, moonless night. But she didn’t need light, she had the feeling emanating in her body. She began to shake. The feeling was immense. It had never felt like this before. Her body was racked with

Bonn often sits on a small hillock watching the last sun dip below the horizon.  Shadows cause the cold to rise from the grasses and aerate the millions of tiny Blue Bow Butterflies.  They have laid on the ground all day gorging the soft nectar of the grasses then, at dusk, their tail wings spin like propellers giving them flight.  The three flapping wing sets create a brilliant, iridescent, blue sparkling as they rise in the cold night air, twinkling blue stars drifting from

Curved fins curved in and out of the water. Bobbing along around us. I jumped in to join them. Googles clear, no scuba. A large breath and down I went. They moved fast and slow around me. I dived to 3m and held my breath as long as I could. Watching them engage with each other. What were they thinking? ‘What’s she doing here?’ or ‘Oh how nice she came to visit us.’   I remained vertical, spinning around slowly. They came gracefully closer to me. I reached out but didn’t touch

Dolphins are right here. Doing beach ball tricks gladly. They are in our hearts.

Dolphins, we are told, only let one side of their brain sleep at a time – what with the whole mammals drowning thing. This presents an ideal metaphor for poor-quality sleep which leaves you feeling as if you never slept. To sleep thus is ‘dolphining’. (That’s what I claim, anyway). It’s a depressingly useful word. I’m in no danger of drowning in my bed, yet I dolphin constantly.   I have questions. 1) How does one determine that a sleeping dolphin is partitioning its brain? W

Species merging was generating problems among the parents.   ‘Icthy’ (the fishy-folk) were gene sharing with the previously lower consciousness group ‘Dollface’. The fish couldn’t resist those cute baby blues, the ageless physiology, and the absence of self-determination among the females. Fishy females were having tricks employed by the clown fish and bees. Namely, gender reversal. Female were becoming male fish! Not due to rising water temperatures but precisely because the

A bunch of grapes sit. The grapes are bunched together. The green grapes sit still.

(Bunch Lunch Munch)   Change just one letter and the concept mutates   If two letters are altered   Bunch > Lunch > Lungh Lunph > lench Lanch Linch   Lunch > Munch > Munch Munce Mundh Monch Manch Mench   But When three letters change, oddly the words can remain Bunch >  Lunch > Lench > Lengh can remain parallel. Or, was this list just an odd fluke? A ‘bunch’ of bananas and the ‘length’ of a bunch growing down off a banana tree?   Try a second example? OK Lunch > Linch > Punch

He stared at the dead body. Its head caved in.   ‘What do we know?’   ‘Well, it looks like he’s had a heart attack.’   ‘WHAT? No it doesn’t. It looks like he’s sustained a blow to the head with a blunt object, I’d say.’   ‘Well maybe he fell and hit his head and then had a heart attack.’   Shaking his head he stared at her.   She stood calmly staring at the body and he could tell she was processing the entire event. It was her first dead body. He knew from the past, that when

Picture it – an atlas on top of someone’s head. Is there a god with an atlas or world on the head? Or a subject of mythology? My story starts with a host of lists and message on a table. Well, who doesn’t accumulate lists and message? Shopping lists, to-do-lists, to-contact lists, to-bin lists. Messages from, messages to, messages about, don’t forget messages. Credit card slips, flyers, newspapers, advertisements, events messages.   They are all there for a reason. Some are n

Bonn uses Mother’s Puter-info for safety and making clothes and weapons.  Stumpy blue trees are like Ashwood and best to use for making bows and arrows.  He bounces his way to the closest Ashes forest 50kms away.  The laser-gun fells a few and trims them to a bendy bow and straight arrows.  Sharpened Grumblebum bones make arrowheads while leg sinews twisted with spook-reed flax stretch for bowstrings.   Red-Black Pandabeasts are the simplest to hunt, while a spook-reed gassed

“What do you want to do? Where do you want to go?” “Oh, I don’t know, pick a spot.” “I’ll get out the maps and have a look.” “I got something better than that. Let’s go for a big fly! As far as we can make it in one day.” “Do we have the fuel for that?” “Of course, we have a full tank of rocket fuel. The sun is just rising and the air is still – let’s go baby!!” “Start those engines and let’s get down the runway.” “Hang on I best put my helmet and seatbelt on.” McGonagall pu

Heavy-winged night sits on my shoulder. The weight of night comes down like a soft paw, in velvet finality. An atlas moth spreads its powdery wings, channelling the moonlight into fractal droplets of incalculable weight.   What rebellion were we guilty of, to be so burdened? What Titanic fault?   Probably nothing. This is just the way of things. Earlier iterations must give way to later. Titans to Olympians. Moths, too, are more ancient than butterflies. I had always imagined

The globe spun around and round. ‘Look at the Atlas children.’ ‘That's not an Atlas that's a globe.’ ‘Don't argue Tim, just do as I say.’ ‘Yes but you got it wrong miss.’ ‘Don't be so rude Tim or you'll sit in the corner.’ ‘But...’ ‘No buts.’ ‘But don't you know an Atlas is a book?’ With this the rest of the five year olds nodded their heads in five year old wisdom. ‘Wasn't Atlas a man?’ The teacher smugly asked. ‘Oh nooo,’ Little Tim said knowingly. ‘Yes he was,’ the teacher

Right. I’m warning you in advance. This is not a happy topic.   My mum is dead. When she died my daughter was visiting from Australia for Xmas and Elle (my kid) and I had gone to the UK and were staying at my friend’s apartment for free.   Worst snow storms that year. It was unclear if we’d get to fly out, but even more critical, could her plane land in Portland? I went to the airport to pick her up. Planes were not landing. There wasn’t a stockpile of de-icer in flights from

The path of least resistance.   It’s the topic of argument: water pollution, water right, water ways.   It’s the micro-molecule H2O, just three atoms but merely two elements. Organic chemists spend two weeks understanding its unusual qualities. ·        Frozen it floats ·        Liquid water compact in space due to weak Van Der Waal’s chemical bonds   How does it work? Does water form ions of OH that are bonded to another H2O atoms OR the H atoms interact with each other on t

He sits in mother’s doorway eating psycho-melons.  He is lost in space and time.  He has no name.  No one calls him or speaks to him or talks about him.  He is a “Boy of No Name”.  So, he calls himself just that -“BONN”- instructing Puter to call him Bonn, just so he can “be”.   Bonn gathers fruit.  Large juicy, blue-fleshed melons growing in massive patches are his favourite.  Unfortunately, they give off psychotic fumes of close, cloying atmosphere that is overly sweet, sti

‘Well it’s closed.’   ‘WHAT! I’m dying for dinner! That’s crap. How can it be closed? It’s always open.’   ‘Well it seems that it is. We were told if we weren’t here on time it would be shut.’   ‘That’s bullshit. That woman is a nightmare. Just because we’re a little late, SHE CLOSES!’   A lady stood at the door and smiled at them, refusing to open up.   ‘MUMMMMMMM, OPEN THE DOOR AND LET US IN. I WANT DINNER!! THAT’S NOT FAIR.’   The lady smiles more and walks off.   ‘Awwww M