Culture

By Anonymous (not verified) , 6 July, 2024
Ward
Myrto sits on Moura’s motorcycle and listens a long time to the clamour of birds, vendors, traffic, yapping street dogs, feeling calm as she looks down side streets … sparkling bright moving black of dead-ends, of time running out of space, in the shade of an eye, then it opens again as an aperture dilating – cones of light into cones of light. She returns to her room around midnight and shadow-boxes until she collapses in a heap on her foam mattress.
By Anonymous (not verified) , 29 June, 2024
Fairy story
The prime minister called a presser to address these urgent issues, at the end of which he took off his jacket, pulled off his pants to reveal legs as slender as two threads of yarn and beat his wings hard. Papers flew, journos covered their faces with clipboards, iPads, notebooks, and he shot out the window, followed by the naked head of ASIO and a dozen prominent journalists whose journalism had long ago folded from interrogation into pure raging spite.