Wildflowers

Featured in

  • Published 20211102
  • ISBN: 978-1-922212-65-8
  • Extent: 264pp
  • Paperback (234 x 153mm), eBook

Listen to contributor Peggy Frew read her fiction ‘Wildflowers’.


IT HAD TAKEN Meg a long time to convince Nina. Many lengthy phone calls. During these Nina had experienced a lot of trouble staying on the line. She walked around the flat she was living in then, the tired-feeling one, from the front door to the bedroom to the kitchen; she fingered the brown edges of the leaves on her ailing maidenhair fern, crumbling beige dust onto the windowsill; she lay across the end of the bed and raised her legs in the air.

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

About the author

Peggy Frew

Peggy Frew’s work has been awarded the Victorian Premier’s Literary Award for an Unpublished Manuscript and the Barbara Jefferis Award, shortlisted for the Stella...

More from this edition

Americano Sal

FictionIt was always busy there in Palermo. During a snow shower I’d sit in the cafés, small corner net connections. Sometimes the weather was a little heavy – I’d kick my boots clean of ice at the entrance, umbrella heavy with sleet. The man you paid to use the internet would be singing in Farsi; a woman would speak in hushed tones in the cubicle. Sometimes not so hushed. Talking to her family on the other side of the world. Where maybe it was snowing, too. And together they could listen to each other. Together in the snow they could talk.

Pidgin

FictionNow Pidgin didn’t say much to nobody, but he was different around his feathered friends, and also with me, coming to overlook my human bits. Plus I never poked fun at him the way others did, about the slowness, the bung eyes or walking like a string was tied from his ankle to the back of his nog – you know, pidgin-like – or being good with nothing else but bird things, which never holds much bargain for others, and they’ll want to tease and knuckle what they don’t get. Truth is I was in love with Pidgin, not that he knew – though it could have been mooch, since he was always calling me up.

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