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Short Stories

In The Stillness Of The Morning

Spring flowers, birds waking in seeping darkness, my family sleeps. Silently, I start another day on this blue planet. Despite all of the things that are broken, in the world, and, in myself, I wake with hope. I hold it in my hands like a fragile seed, sprinkling warmth across it’s shell, seeing it bloom…

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Sometimes, You Just Need to Breathe

Sometimes, you just need to breathe. You need to go to the sea, where the world becomes a dome of silver and blue, and the horizon never ends. You yearn to touch the soft, gritty sand, beneath your feet, between your toes, to become weightless, as you float in the salty water, face turned to…

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Taking The Time

Time stretches back like an electric wire, crisscrossing my memories. Awoken, by the scent of a yellow rose, by pink sunrise climbing out from a tumbling silver sea, by the call of a bird, alerting us all to the morning. Time stretches forwards, like a spider’s thread of silk, difficult to see and yet, I…

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Flash Fiction – An Exercise in Restraint

Writers Victoria have been running a 30 word flash fiction challenge across April #WVFlashFic  on twitter. It was a wonderful 30 days of creating and reading words, inspired by the daily prompt. I have met lots of lovely people through the challenge. This kind of writing helps you to form stories with clarity. It pushes…

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Roadtrip

Helen Edwards Writer in Australia short story about the Nullarbor

Long. Straight. Endless. Black road with white lines. Red dirt spread out either side of us across the wide expanse. Ripples of grey green scrub dotted through its gut like tufts of icing. To the left, the shimmering haze that signalled the sea hung above a craggy edged cliff. The sun’s orange orb climbed right…

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Sweet Sixteen

australian writing competitions to enter

Image is my grandma with my son Maxwell at her 100th – during the speeches he crawled closer and closer to her, and she reached out for a cuddle, it was one of the most beautiful moments watching her with the grandchildren while her children spoke about their love for her. Do you enter writing…

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