Journal
Articles
Blue and black
MY MOTHER WAS a worrier. She speculated endlessly about whether her pie would be considered the best at bake...
Sonny
Click here to listen to Adam Thompson read ‘Sonny’. ON SOME WINTER mornings in Launceston, the fog doesn’t lift until midday. Today...
Invisible histories
IMAGINE YOURSELF A bird, huge, flying out of time through a smoky sky, back, back through millennia. Further than...
The pleasure cure
THE SOUND OF waves just behind me filled my ears. My bare feet on the hot sand made me...
Elemental summer:
A season of change
This is the first essay in a new series to be published online across the 2020-21 summer. Bearing witness...
Stone. Tongue.
i. Evening falls, and rooms grow dark, then light. Through the open window, a cricket starts up its whirring. Steam rises from the...
The half-life of Ant Zaniolo
THIS IS THE one memory of Ant I fully trust. I’m in the backyard, in the veggie patch littered with...
Finding you above Kyoto
Finding you above Kyoto stone cats in red knits lined a narrow canal sweetened water swirled in bowls of fallen leaves staining my hands...
Mount Trepidation
THE MOUNTAIN WAS a sheer volcanic core that rose improbably from the lush plain. It had been named Mount...
The gift
My younger sister’s just now sent me a maxim that our mother used, mostly in regard to others; then, each day as...
The mists of down below
THERE WAS NOTHING Agent Kayl Green feared more than the kindness of strangers, something that could never really be...
Quince season
our kitchen turns rosaries of light in ginger and lemon outside the fib of things fading down our evergreen seasons ...
