Tree-lined and hemmed by footpath, Oxley Lane awoke to a bluster of wind drawn from the mountains and caught the faint drops of dew-frost in its passing. Gumnuts, past blossom and dry from the winter’s retreat, are shaken from their branches and fall, softly dropping upon the parked cars below, the hollow ding against windscreen … Continue reading Oxley Ln
And so it was that a small figure fell from their slumber and was awoken by the wine-dark stirring sea, foam peaked waves and the roar of silence summarily greeting them as they were discarded thoughtlessly into the tide. Bloodied moonglow scarcely glinted as the failing ember of the watchtower stood now blackened for … Continue reading A Fallen Harbour
‘Ok, you can do this.’Simon closed his eyes and breathed in as the sound of the approaching carcreaked and grumbled upon the loose stone of the sloping driveway. An ill-windin that moment passed by, drawing a dusting of rain in its spectre and caused achill to run up the real estate agent’s nervous spine. The … Continue reading To Sell A Manor Haunted.
Rain pelleted against the window as amber lights sketched the line of a city beyond the salt flats. One by one the lights dimmed, the horizon and solemn ground becoming endless in their opaque seam. Crackling, the receiving station’s radio scanned into a home channel, half-static cruelling whatever vinyl-scratched music the operator had chosen to … Continue reading Morning’s Reflection
Two crows flew silently overhead, their quiet wings, charcoal black, cut sharply across the sky like tears or imperfections. It was autumn’s first cold day. Brown and red leaves hung lowly from their branches as a tired walker held a hand against their side and yawned, their clouded breath expanding amongst the morning dew: an … Continue reading The Wanderings of a Crow
There was trouble brewing in the bog. Drella stood over her cauldron and admired the boiling broth within. A bog witch is well accustomed to trouble. From curious young ravens who practice their ominous foreshadowing by lingering in the corners of a witch’s vision, to foolish young townsfolk who march off into the wilds to … Continue reading 🧹 The Troubles of a Bog Witch
It was night.To all gathered within the candle-lined snug known the Bookmaker’s tavern, the night had arrived no less irregularly than the many previous. The routine of day had waxed and waned, and without occasion the lantern-moon had returned to the sky. But to one booth, still rapt in the joys of conversation, there was … Continue reading Ekilm
In the fading light of nocturne, a muddy-green sky is painted above a lonely valley while the dim air of Autumn below grows humid and pure.Within the gloom there begins a memory. Patch-marked trees were hung wearily with stillness as their drooping branches lay heavy and low; the rolling bluster of day at last faded, … Continue reading A Mosquito
Extract taken from C.F Peterson’s A Trundle Through the Balendup Hills - 1971. It was a sleepy day in the bush.An easy wind fluttered through leaves upon dreaming eucalypts and the thunk of a nearby kookaburra is heard as it falls from its branch in a bundle of feathers and a harangued squawk. It was … Continue reading The Balendup Hills
Just a quick note that this is a horror short. - Two reels turn slowly as the tape opens and is pulled against the tapehead, white and black static flickering into life on the screen as the ripple of electricity interferes with the picture for a moment. It’s faded at first. Like seafoam and oil … Continue reading Source Decay
Sunday Short Stories 