All the things I should've given

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Animal control

FictionShe’d seen her mother a couple of times since the lockdown ended, but it was still a shock. Margaret had lost some vital density that seemed ethereal, although it was obviously about her body – the protruding cheekbones, eyes sunk too deep in her head and hair a wispy cap across her scalp. Only her hands looked the same – her piano-playing hands resting neatly in her lap, long-fingered and surprisingly preserved. The rest of her was ghostly, and there was a blink when she looked at her daughter and the lights didn’t go on. SJ felt a momentary sinkhole: not that, not yet.

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Shanghai wedding

FictionShanghai, 2011 BILLY LOOKED AROUND the carriage and surprised himself with the realisation that despite feeling nothing, he was actually floating. He couldn’t articulate, even...

Poster boy

FictionAs a teenager, during the day, with my mates, we’d talk about their stats – career goals, disposals, who was the most accurate goal kicker, who was the fastest player, who could lay the hardest tackles. And at night, I’d stare up at those posters from my bed, the moonlight making the footy players’ strong arms glisten. Bare, bulging biceps. Broad, powerful pectorals almost bursting through their yellow and blue guernseys. I wanted them, and I wanted to be them, all at the same time.

Symbols, shorthand, signs

IntroductionIN THE WINTER of 2018, the National Gallery of Victoria’s ground floor was given over to the MoMA at NGV exhibition, arranged across two...