Competition entries

Emma Louise Gill

Djiti Djiti

Chit-chit-chit-chit
"The wagtail’s at it again."
"’Tail!"
"Aw. Where’s the birdy, Izzy?"
"’Tail!"
"Noisy critter, isn’t it. Hasn’t stopped all day. No, don’t go out- Hon! Go get Izzy, would you?"
Chit-chit-chit-chit
"I don’t know, Meg. Some say wagtails are lucky birds. I wouldn’t mind a pair nesting at my house."
"You can have mine." I sip my tea. "Hon! You’ve got to stop leaving the backdoor open! Sorry, Jules. You were saying?"
Chit-chit-chit-chit
"Oh my- Hon! Izzy! She’ll get dive-bombed again!"
Chit-chit-chit-chit
"’Tail. ’Nake."
"What?"
I don’t think I’ve run faster in my life.
Thank God for that wagtail.

Alison Davis

Cake Crash

Cake. Splatters like road kill. Splashes of pink icing smear the pavement. The man freezes, his arms outstretched as though a crisp, white box still balances there. Instead, it sprawls on the footpath, unraveled and unstuck. The stray dog runs away from the man and cake as fast as he can, knowing that he didn’t meant it to happen, and knowing too that he shouldn’t stay.
Across town, a lady smiles and wonders whether this year he will bring vanilla or chocolate.

Glad McGough

Chum

Sitting in a padded puppy basket, was the minutest little animal, white, with a patch over his left, enormous sad brown eyes. I could almost see a tear trickle down his furry cheek. He was missing his mum. Chum was to be the mental therapy for the staff. On the palm of my hand I carried him to my computer. He sat on my lap; body extended, two front paws on the desk.
Now, he’s grown, takes his job seriously as rapturously each morning, tail wagging violently sufficient to send him into orbit, Chummie greets each staff member – bliss!

Kylie Sturgess

Rewind

My eyes are shut and I hear the medic say it’s over. Life passes quickly, from a car to a coma. Driving home in anger, yelling at the traffic lights, I thought she would want to stay and dance forever. What’s one more drink, one more move? Your phone number is changed and I’m out alone all the time. Deadlines are missed and my name is no longer on the roster; can we talk? We never talk anymore. I left you a mix tape, but the only player is on my car dash. Rewind, read this story from the end.

Kelly E Fox

Twist and Tangle

The gremlins got into the cassette box again. Angel sighs as they begins the task of sorting the curls of tape from the tangle of the universe. With delicate, gloved fingertips, they untwist each life from every other, putting it back in its place, its simple track. The world and its stories all in order.
“Why must you keep doing this?” they huff into the space between dark and light.
It takes a certain kind of ear to hear the gremlin giggle. “Because every twist and tangle makes the story beautiful.”

Laura Holloway

Mixtape

Dear Diary

Today is the greatest day of my life. Tyson Baines, the freshest guy in school, made ME a mixtape. He was so nervous he couldn’t even look at me. Total sweetheart. I guess my bogus brother was wrong when he said I keep humiliating myself. He’s just jealous his best friend is crushing on his little sister.

The tracks are:
1. I Don’t Know How to Tell Her
2. Not a Chance
3. Aint No Way
4. Don’t Stand So Close to Me

A mixtape! Can you even imagine anything so romantic?

Love,

The Future Mrs Tyson Baines

A R Hitchcock

Jackie

I thought it would be easier than this. If only Jackie knew the lengths I’d go to for her. She is the moon and stars, the sun and sky. Surely this mixtape is going to get me over the line. If it wasn’t for the bloody cassette player chewing it up. Right. Another tactic.
I grab my notebook off the desk. A poem then. I can do this. A poem about our love. A poem about what she means to me. It’s a shame I can’t give it to her in person. If it wasn’t for that damned restraining order.

Andrew Heath

I’ll Tell You About Hope!

All your life, you wait for your turn to belong – your big opportunity.

Somehow your dream survives removal, dislocation, the reserve, discrimination.

You show promise at cricket, a fast bowler. Speedy action learned from throwing boomerangs. Slippery, they conceded, admiringly.

Finally selected to play against New South Wales, you take an early wicket, finding the incoming batsman is Don Bradman, scourge of bowler’s hopes across the globe.

Not you today, Eddie Gilbert.

Fifth ball, you got him - caught for a duck.

‘Gilbert was unhesitatingly faster than anyone else I ever faced,’ Bradman confirmed later, nodding an acknowledgement.

‘You belong here.’

June Bownds

On Probation

The time had come. Faye Montague of Montague Antiques summoned the two girls on probation. She had to choose one. Which one? Both were excellent workers with a sound knowledge of antiques.
Faye spoke 'I found a bundle of old love letters hidden in the mahogany desk. What should I do with them?'
'Burn them. They're of no importance' replied Sonya.
'No!' blustered Zoe. 'They have history and sentimental value. Give them to the family.'
Faye smiled. 'My grandmother's letters were a test. Sonya you have no appreciation or respect for anything old. Zoe your answer shows you belong here.'

Nicki Ranger

Now You’ve Come Undone

Your voice slowed for a moment, unable to move from one note to the next, before you stopped singing altogether. The anguish you’d held in for so long, emotions you’d kept so tightly wound together, unravelled without warning on a Tuesday evening.
I sat on the floor with you all night, doing everything I could to soothe your ruptured cords, to disentangle you with love. Dinner went cold, wine was left undrunk.
Now we’re searching for strategies to keep your voice alive. I promise to keep you safe from harm. When the time is right, I know you’ll sing again.