Stories and Paintings
Rory’s parents’ house, Queensland, Australia, 19th November 2005. BANG! Another balloon popped, right behind me. I swear the little turds were doing it on purpose. I hate balloons popping. I don’t mind the noise; it’s the surprise I can’t stand. A swarm of ankle-biters ran outside, screeching and giggling, hyped up on fairy... Continue Reading →
A yank of the hand brake and a deft swivel of the steering wheel, and LaShawn brought his truck round to skidding halt on the dirt driveway beside Budgie’s house. He chuckled as he switched the engine off. Budgie—his last name is Finch, so we call him Budgie—had a four-acre property with a... Continue Reading →
A hundred and twenty-five kilometres an hour. Thoughts swirled in my head. A lot of questions. No answers. The music was so loud. LaShawn had spared no expense on his car stereo. Drummed his hands on the steering wheel in time to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Sang along in falsetto. Always falsetto. Asked him... Continue Reading →
“Just shove that stuff over,” said LaShawn, as I climbed into the mess of pool noodles and kickboards on the back seat of his car. Rory sat in the front. With a screech of tyres and a belch of smoke, we roared out of the train station car park. “So it all went to plan... Continue Reading →
New Year's Eve 1989 in the Venison household was one to remember. So it is unfortunate that I'm the only one who does. (My parents, and my aunties and uncles who attended the party at our house, all woke the next afternoon with "nasty colds" that seemed to have wiped all memory of the night's... Continue Reading →
It was a hot August night in Osaka. Mossy, myself and the rest of the band were back at the hotel room. Normally after a gig the room would be an orgy of drinking, feasting, dancing, sword fights, amateur dental surgery, impromptu taxidermy and half-naked circus folk, more often than not resulting in the arrest... Continue Reading →
Before leaving the house for his mission—top priority, straight from the president—Paul stood in front of the mirror and studied his appearance. Visually, this was a useless exercise: it was a shaving mirror, and he had to stand on the other side of the room to fit in his entire reflection. He had no idea... Continue Reading →
A bittersweet love story.
