The Pig’s Final Swim (Part 4)

    Henry went through the tomato patch, through the colonnade of leafy green stems bound to wooden stakes. The plants bore fat round tomatoes, red and ripe, and the temptation to stop and eat almost overcame the little pig. He put his snout down and pressed on. At the bottom of the short slope near... Continue Reading →

The Pig’s Final Swim (Part 3)

    Down the long dirt path the little pig sped, almost to the front gate, then he veered left up through the fruit trees and around toward the dam. The urgent beating in his chest turned to one of exhilaration as the wind rushed against his face, the ground raced beneath his frantic little legs,... Continue Reading →

The Pig’s Final Swim (Part 2)

    Tink… tink, tink… The first raindrops tapped the henhouse roof, drawing Henry’s attention from the peach tree. His eyes widened. Up the hill he trotted, curious at the swirling grey clouds moving through low through the air. He trotted right past the henhouse and into the chicken yard, where he stopped and gasped. Under... Continue Reading →

The Pig’s Final Swim (Part 1)

    Mr McGinley stood on the front porch of the farmhouse, his new kelpie pup at his side, and watched the mass of black clouds gathering south of Butterberry Farm. A long, dark shadow covered the lower paddock, where the sheep were huddled together by the old gum tree at the southern fence. A cold... Continue Reading →

Painting: Vase of Roses

    Roses have long been a symbol of love. With petals fine and delicate, the flowers die within weeks of blooming, days if cut at the stem, and mere minutes if you set fire to the bush. They speak of life’s brevity and deterioration.     Traditionally, red is the most favoured colour, reminding us of... Continue Reading →

Painting: Guitarist

    Ronald Guitar was born in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1942. The youngest of seven children, Ronald stood out among his siblings as a gifted child, and one with a massive, pineapple-shaped birthmark on his left cheek. His father, Herman, was an angry tennis coach with long hair. His mother, Ethel, was a cake decorator... Continue Reading →

Painting: Double Portrait

Duality of man, the struggle within, Every one of us an Abel, every one a Cain, I am Jekyll, I am Hyde. The capable adult, the out-of-his-depth child, Strong as a mountain, I endure, Fragile as cracked porcelain, I am one 'payment declined' away from tears. The man of conformity, respectable slave, The lunatic at... Continue Reading →

Painting: Fruit Bowl

Examining the works of famous artists, I have noticed three popular subjects for paintings: fruit, flowers and naked people. It seems that when it comes to fresh produce, chrysanthemums and the human form, the art world can never have too much. These subjects are undoubtedly beautiful—contours, colours, boobs—but other things are beautiful as well. Like... Continue Reading →

Short Fiction: The Museum

Lyle Kelp loved dinosaurs. He thought they were the perfect creatures. Not triceratopses though. Jeez Louise, you didn’t want to be around when he launched into one of his anti-triceratops rants. But he loved the other dinosaurs. Lyle lived in Sinklewich, a town in the fair state of Obadiah. The governor of Obadiah got people... Continue Reading →

Christmas Poem: Traditions

Well it’s another December and Christmas again, A time of peace and goodwill toward men, A season to celebrate the Saviour’s birth, Observed all over the face of the earth, With traditions of food and stories and gifts, And songs, and family to celebrate with. Now, some of our customs got me thinking, You see,... Continue Reading →

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