Writing with a nail polish brush wasn’t easy. Violetta frowned as she formed the letters on the videotape sticker—‘Shimon’. She inserted the tape in the machine and sat cross-legged, eyes wide with expectation. She pressed the play button and the ancient machine whirred as the screen came to life. Shimon’s angular cheekbones were shadowed by … More Legacy
Sometimes Rosalia thought she knew more about the family than they knew themselves. As she dusted, mopped and sanitised toilets, she observed her surrounds. A new bra and underpants flung on the armchair in the master bedroom—Jamie was trying to revive her flagging marriage. A holiday brochure for Tahiti—her husband was doing the same. A … More The Hard Way
Georgia. Aged 8. I hold my breath when I pass number six. It smells like wee and cat litter. There’s always a fat orange moggy who brushes past my leg. The witch lady is inside. I see the curtain twitch and her long nose. My Mum phoned the council because of the odour and … More The Witch of Northcote
