Fiction

The short-tailed bats arrive in Greymouth in 1999. Their provenance is unclear, but they make their new home in the memorial park in the centre of town, in the old war trees ...

Jorge and I met when I was sixteen and he was fourteen, our age difference at the time an unbroachable leap ...

The first month without a mother moves as slowly as mountains ...

His first memory was of his fifth birthday ...

It’s Saturday. Lunchtime. Michael crouches over roast meat and vegies. He stares at Kayla the way he does when he doesn’t get his way. His mouth opens as he chews, and skin crawls up his nose. Kayla pretends not to ...

The villagers sing and their voices fill the valley and pulse through my feet. A joy we have not felt for years shimmers upwards from roots to crown like the smiles on their faces ...

I remember the light is hot and gold, spilling across our faces. That daytime sunshine has burnt our cheeks and foreheads, but now the sun is dying, cooling, seeping like a wound across the skyline ...

Inside my shoe drawer, my favourite heels had turned green and furry. Wonderful. Pets are good for mental health. I named the mould Trevor. He grew up fast. I gave him the closet and all my clothes to chew on ...

Here was a forest—a city of trees connected through living highways of root and rhizomic thread and fungal filament. The forest was whole and dense and a whole world for other worlds. And in the clearing of the forest stood ...

Opening the front door of the house, she realised she had been there before. As soon as her hand made contact with the heavy wood, she felt it. Another party, years ago. Brine smell of harbour water. That green lawn ...

ALCOHOL A mouthful of ambrosia, a therapist, a vicious debt collector, a recurring bout of neuralgia. My maudlin lover, no substitute for my flesh-and-blood beloved wife who grew tired of my (admittedly somewhat sordid toward the end) dalliance with the ...

I liked my title, which I interpreted literally. I was a visiting fellow—a fellow, just visiting—a person passing through. The centre gave me a desk, and the director, a former US ambassador to New Zealand, put me on the VIP ...

Inspired by The Castle by Franz Kafka No one else alighted the train and Kelsey walked alone towards town and the monolith beyond—a structure she could sense even in the dark. It was as hot as daytime, over 40, and ...

The men did not wait for me to draw the short straw. That I had been born a woman was short straw enough. They stood solemn around the starboard deck and rued as I lightened their load. Down they cast ...

Summers are uncomfortable for a fat kid. The heat makes the whole body stick to itself, layer upon layer where every fold pools its own sweat. For Albert, being shirtless was putting it all out there. No dark clothes, no ...