It’s six o’clock on Friday evening at Hurstville station and I walk up to the concourse from the platform below. I’ve just beat the swathes of commuters who will soon follow and swallow up…
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The beans, peas and lettuce have just sprouted. I planted them seven days ago. I’m growing a pretty heirloom pea called ‘Golden Podded Pea’, the seeds of which come to us, apparently, from…
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I think it was then – then amidst the bag hooks in the lino-ed corridor of the infants school block – that I realised my sister and I were for each other in this…
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The real world goes like this: Southeast Sydney pieced between bay and bush and city. In the city jigsaw, there are many other pieces like it on the map, with the same pattern…
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We don’t see the pots until we clear the ivy. And there they are, waiting to be woken, as if no time has passed. Who knows how long they’ve been there. I suggest…