At last some
sunshine, but still
I remain indoors
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Sunday, November 5, 2017
Victoria Williams: 0318
I forgot what was happening to you,
Sometimes I succeeded in forgetting and sometimes I had to work at it,
When I got home my boots were full of your fingernails
Sometimes I succeeded in forgetting and sometimes I had to work at it,
When I got home my boots were full of your fingernails
Sunday, October 22, 2017
Victoria Williams: 0317
I view the day outsiderly
I look at things outsiderly,
All day until the evening when,
I slip back into your mind again.
I look at things outsiderly,
All day until the evening when,
I slip back into your mind again.
Sunday, October 8, 2017
Victoria Williams: 0316
When my legs are next to your ears,
What can you hear?
What my knees tell you,
I have the satisfaction of never knowing
What can you hear?
What my knees tell you,
I have the satisfaction of never knowing
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Sunday, September 10, 2017
I'm Just Kinda Frugal
When I'm in South Africa I buy Med Lemon
sachets to bring back with me to Sweden.
It's my tried and tested cold medicine.
But sometimes I get anxious as the expiration
date on my Med Lemon approaches and I
haven't used it all up yet.
What a waste of this precious citrus-flavoured
paracetamol, I think to myself. Then I go out
and ask folk on the subway to cough in my face.
It's not a sex thing, I promise them if they object.
I'm just kinda frugal.
sachets to bring back with me to Sweden.
It's my tried and tested cold medicine.
But sometimes I get anxious as the expiration
date on my Med Lemon approaches and I
haven't used it all up yet.
What a waste of this precious citrus-flavoured
paracetamol, I think to myself. Then I go out
and ask folk on the subway to cough in my face.
It's not a sex thing, I promise them if they object.
I'm just kinda frugal.
Sunday, August 27, 2017
ODE TO A YO-YO
Shall I compare thee to a fidget spinner?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buys of May,
And summer’s trends hath all too short a date.
But thy eternal rotations shall not fade,
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buys of May,
And summer’s trends hath all too short a date.
But thy eternal rotations shall not fade,
Sunday, August 13, 2017
Sunday, July 30, 2017
Sunday, July 2, 2017
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Sunday, June 4, 2017
Sunday, May 21, 2017
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Eva Jackson: 0111
Home Square
I am in a box
Pitching to left and right between the parking and the garden
Sounds carry through of an engine
Much more powerful than mine and I mime it:
Big fat man behind the wheel
Shouldering other passengers in traffic
Someone’s baby is yawping, crying
Like a Loerie who lived by the house I've just left.
I am in a box
Pitching to left and right between the parking and the garden
Sounds carry through of an engine
Much more powerful than mine and I mime it:
Big fat man behind the wheel
Shouldering other passengers in traffic
Someone’s baby is yawping, crying
Like a Loerie who lived by the house I've just left.
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Eva Jackson: 0110
Dream
I’m going to an ice rink. Walk in the doors and change near a slightly run down display. I have long red hair and a black fake fur jacket, and a short white skirt. I’m shorter than usual. Something stops me initially from getting onto the ice and I walk on the fringes with my skates on. No hiring, I had them with me. Then I’m on the ice and realise I have no fear of speed, that when I go powerfully fast I remember an assurance and brilliance from some other life. I purposely head towards and scale walls with the lightness and strong momentum, I reach out for greater speed, I made rapid turns and stretch across the ice, and it’s not like figure skating or any skating, it’s just access to pure and perfect speed and control without control. I keep losing my phone, my phone is clearly important to me. I’m recording myself singing in between rushes of skating, and at times the battery falls out and the phone skips onto the ice and I chase it, digging it up with my fingernails because here, it could go through the ice and be lost forever.
I’m going to an ice rink. Walk in the doors and change near a slightly run down display. I have long red hair and a black fake fur jacket, and a short white skirt. I’m shorter than usual. Something stops me initially from getting onto the ice and I walk on the fringes with my skates on. No hiring, I had them with me. Then I’m on the ice and realise I have no fear of speed, that when I go powerfully fast I remember an assurance and brilliance from some other life. I purposely head towards and scale walls with the lightness and strong momentum, I reach out for greater speed, I made rapid turns and stretch across the ice, and it’s not like figure skating or any skating, it’s just access to pure and perfect speed and control without control. I keep losing my phone, my phone is clearly important to me. I’m recording myself singing in between rushes of skating, and at times the battery falls out and the phone skips onto the ice and I chase it, digging it up with my fingernails because here, it could go through the ice and be lost forever.
Sunday, April 9, 2017
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Long List For Trade Secrets
Thank you to every writer who entered a story for this year's Short.Sharp.Stories Awards anthology, TRADE SECRETS.
The standard was generally high this year which is good news. It means writers expressed care and thought about the theme, and requirements, but also spent time polishing their work more thoroughly in order to give stories the best possible chance to elicit positive responses. As is inevitable, a number of noteworthy stories and stories with great potential could not be accommodated as part of the Long List. Thank you again to every entrant. The next part of the process will be to choose the twenty stories which will make up the Short.Sharp.Stories - National Arts Festival Awards Burnet Media 2017 anthology, TRADE SECRETS, to be published June/ July.
Long List
Alex Smith
Andrew Salomon
Andiswa Kula
Anna Hug
Amy Heydenrych
Bobby Jordan
Christine Coates
Cynthia Kristasamy
Darrel Bristow-Bovey
Duncan Rodseth
Frieda-Marie De Jager
Jo-Ann Bekker
Jumani Clarke
Kamil Naiker
Kerry Hammerton
Linda Daniels
Megan Ross
Michael Yee
Mapule Mohulatsi
Mishka Hoosen
Mmabatho Mathope
Ntsika Gogwana
Olufemi Agunbiade
Pam Newham
Patricia Crain
Philip Vermaas
Philisiwe Twijnstra
Pravasan Pillay
Sally Ann Murray
Sally Partridge
Sean Mayne
Sinovuyo Mcunukelwa
Tim Murithi
Yasthiel Devraj
The standard was generally high this year which is good news. It means writers expressed care and thought about the theme, and requirements, but also spent time polishing their work more thoroughly in order to give stories the best possible chance to elicit positive responses. As is inevitable, a number of noteworthy stories and stories with great potential could not be accommodated as part of the Long List. Thank you again to every entrant. The next part of the process will be to choose the twenty stories which will make up the Short.Sharp.Stories - National Arts Festival Awards Burnet Media 2017 anthology, TRADE SECRETS, to be published June/ July.
Long List
Alex Smith
Andrew Salomon
Andiswa Kula
Anna Hug
Amy Heydenrych
Bobby Jordan
Christine Coates
Cynthia Kristasamy
Darrel Bristow-Bovey
Duncan Rodseth
Frieda-Marie De Jager
Jo-Ann Bekker
Jumani Clarke
Kamil Naiker
Kerry Hammerton
Linda Daniels
Megan Ross
Michael Yee
Mapule Mohulatsi
Mishka Hoosen
Mmabatho Mathope
Ntsika Gogwana
Olufemi Agunbiade
Pam Newham
Patricia Crain
Philip Vermaas
Philisiwe Twijnstra
Pravasan Pillay
Sally Ann Murray
Sally Partridge
Sean Mayne
Sinovuyo Mcunukelwa
Tim Murithi
Yasthiel Devraj
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Victoria Williams: 0313
Sitting in the library, and I don’t think that my efforts to surreptitiously undo the top button on my jeans are going unnoticed…
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Sunday, February 12, 2017
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Sunday, January 15, 2017
Victoria Williams: 0311
Advice on your third birthday:
I would sweetly bring him all the open and mostly full cans of alcohol I’d taken a sip of and not liked, and in return he would hold the can in his lap, lean back in his chair and squint, and tell me: You don’t get through life by never meaning anyone any harm.
I would sweetly bring him all the open and mostly full cans of alcohol I’d taken a sip of and not liked, and in return he would hold the can in his lap, lean back in his chair and squint, and tell me: You don’t get through life by never meaning anyone any harm.
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