The octopus within

Discovering the creatures inside

Featured in

Buy $18.50 – 27.99
  • Published 20240507
  • ISBN: 978-1-922212-95-5
  • Extent: 203pp
  • Paperback, ePub, PDF, Kindle compatible

THERE ARE SMALL things that have changed since I was told I have cancer.

My mother, with whom I’m very close but in a non-­sentimental kind of way, has started to send me emojis in her text messages – something she’s never done before. She’s not an effusive, emoji-­using person, and I like and admire that about her. The expanding pink hearts at the end of her messages feel out of place. She has also started to text things like You have a beautiful smile in response to photos I’ve sent her – again, completely out of character, and worrying because to behave out of character means that something has happened to knock you out of yourself.

Already a subscriber? Sign in here

If you are an educator or student wishing to access content for study purposes please contact us at griffithreview@griffith.edu.au

Share article

Tweet
Share
Share
Pin
0 Shares

Subscribe to great writing

Access starts at just $6 per month. Print and digital options to suit every budget!

Learn more

More from author

Home is where the haunt is

Ghosts, like people, tend to be attached to a particular place. The term ‘to haunt’ in English has three linked meanings. First, for a ghost to manifest itself at a place regularly: a grey lady who haunts the chapel. Second, to be persistently and disturbingly present in someone’s mind: the sight haunted me for years. Third, to frequent a place often and repeatedly: that’s his old haunt. Home and haunting go hand in hand. Ghosts don’t haunt an entire city. They haunt a specific house, a dwelling, usually assumed to be the place where they died.

More from this edition

It takes two

In Conversation Across nearly five decades, Richard Glover and Debra Oswald have been spinning the stuff of everyday life – family dynamics, growing pains, relationships, the ever-­amusing...

Against the grain

Non-fictionAt sixteen, I interviewed Billie Joe Armstrong, the frontman for Green Day. It was a Tuesday and I should have been at school. That morning, my mum dropped me off at the front gate. I snuck out the back, navigated the train schedule to reach the city, and found out what time the band would arrive for sound check at Festival Hall for that night’s show.

Black love matters

Non-fiction I WOULD LIKE to love my mother without feeling, to perform the rituals and duties of filial care without the risk to heart of hurt. Mine,...

Stay up to date with the latest, news, articles and special offers from Griffith Review.