Curtin Writers Club

It’ll be OK. I kept thinking to myself, as if the thought alone would make it possible. “It will be OK”. For the briefest of moments, I believed that saying the words aloud would give them some permanence. I was wrong. My comment was met with no reply; the words hung hollow in the air and the silence that followed was more deafening than before. A passing plane caught my attention, casting my gaze to the outside. The grass a verdant green, the sky a clear cornflower blue: a f

Lilac flowers bloom in Spring a chorus of bouquets that turn into a vulgar show of vanity pulling vomit from my stomach Winter trees that once seemed quaint remembering Paris streets where my feet have never stepped now stark naked to the eye drawing sympathy from having lost its leaves The Summer waves of Cottesloe trudge forwards and back, thrust into soft sand eroding eroding eroding sand dragged into the depths of the sea’s tentacled babies ink rises and