The House at No. 3

Seventeen years ago a roar engulfed the singing pines - countless breaths exhaling the needle sting of smoke. They stood in shredded funeral garb flinging glowing ember flowers onto us below. They witnessed our syncopated falling and the operatic scream of twisting steel, the cymbal crash of exploding windows. We knelt prostrate before the fire … Continue reading The House at No. 3

Australia’s Summer

I cannot forget your steely-white glare; the too-hot press of you against my skin. My body contracted until cracks appeared. Plants wilted, waterholes sucked in and my body fissured abandoned to exuberant wind and the angry roar of carbon-crazed dragons. The smoke rolled over us all like hell's too-slow envoy. Before it, a syndicate of … Continue reading Australia’s Summer