And There Was Ninja Moustache (Chapter 11)

The train ride from the airport was pleasant to begin with; outside the window, white clouds drifted through blue skies, while frangipanis bloomed amid the trees whizzing by. Rory regaled me with humorous stories from his prison stay—the humour was black, of course. Very black. The inventiveness of some of the prisoner suicides disturbed me.... Continue Reading →

And There Was Ninja Moustache (Chapter 8)

After we passed through customs, Rory said he was peckish, so he and I stopped at a little airport coffee shop plastered with Italian flags and paintings of the Colosseum, called Caffè di Venezia. Rory ordered a ham and cheese croissant, Vegemite toast, bacon and eggs and an orange juice; I ordered a chocolate milkshake.... Continue Reading →

Painting: Paris Evening

“Travel is really great.” —Mark Twain Actually, that’s not the exact quote. I can’t remember how Twain put it; it was much longer and sounded better, but you get the gist. I’m sure anyone who has travelled would agree with him. Except my work colleague, Glen. He went on an eight-day South Pacific cruise last... Continue Reading →

Short Fiction: Visiting Mum

“New earrings? I don’t know why you keep buying those—it’s not like she’ll wear them.” “That’s not the point.” “At least get second hand ones. She’s not going to notice the difference, and you’d save yourself some money.” “Will you lay off? She put new earrings on the list, so I’m giving her new earrings.”... Continue Reading →

Training Camp (Part 3)

The young man murmured and groggily opened his eyes. "Hey mate," Mossy said to him, "take it easy, okay? You've had a knock to the head, but you're going to be all right. Just sit still and try to relax." The young man began to mumble, but we couldn't make out what he was saying.... Continue Reading →

Training Camp (Part 2)

In the middle of the night a chill awoke me. I got out of bed to check if the window was open. As I made my way across the room, in the darkness I bumped into another body. Two cold hands grabbed my waist. "Mossy, wake up,” I said. “You're sleepwalking.” The hands hurriedly loosed... Continue Reading →

Training Camp (Part 1)

A couple of years ago my friend Troy Moss (a.k.a. Mossy) and I travelled Europe on a working holiday, making a small fortune in prize money on the women's athletic circuit. It was easy. It hadn’t always been that way; we tried it just after graduating high school, but back then they were pretty strict... Continue Reading →

Book Review: The Sun Also Rises

In the state art gallery I saw a painting that consisted of three huge orange swirls across a giant white canvas. It would have taken all of thirty seconds to paint. I imagine art critics raved about the piece’s “importance”, and discussed the great meaning it conveyed. Meanwhile, the humble art gallery patron was left... Continue Reading →

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