MemoirONE RECENT SATURDAY morning, I once again drove my children to the street in Brisbane’s west where I grew up as a boy. They had been on this journey too many times to remember: the pleasant drive through The Gap...

FictionWhatever lies under a stoneLies under the stone of the worldThe Green Centipede – Douglas Stewart A MONTH AFTER the funeral of Wilfred Lampe's mother, and having not seen or heard from Wilfred, Mitchell the publican was delegated to drive out...

EssayHE WAS A small old man and he sat alone in the tram. It was late July and very warm and the tram was making its way through the southern suburbs of Hiroshima to the ferry terminal for the...

MemoirWRITER FRANK MOORHOUSE has said that Queensland's Gold Coast is the perfect destination for an annual nervous breakdown. The place is an abrasive amalgam of Kings Cross and the Costa del Sol, strips of powdered sand and garish light,...

EssayJUST A FEW kilometres west of the brass lions and clock tower in Brisbane city's King George Square, over a patchwork of corrugated iron and great crowns of poinciana and fig trees, is a little crosshatch of streets on...

ReportageIN A SKYSCRAPER on Ann Street, Brisbane, behind the sandstone City Hall clock tower, and a stone's throw from a nub of granite at North Quay commemorating the founding of the capital by Surveyor-General John Oxley (who came 'in...

EssayThe she-oak (casuarina) is a melancholy kind of tree, with feathery leaves that hang in fringes from short stems... [it] whispers and murmurs in the wind, making noises that early settlers compared to a harp. AT THE VERY northern tip of...