Last Day on Earth
‘Despite my efforts at denial the new reality of our lives was beginning to sink in.’
‘It must be a dreadful cross: this hot desire to join in with people who don’t want you.’
‘She feels the wildness enter her and keeps her eyes shut.’ New fiction from Eliza Robertson.
‘My love for him felt so total and so annihilating that it was often impossible for me to see him clearly at all.’
All We Shall Know
‘Thoughts sharpen themselves on the flints of one another and pierce me like a knife in my middle, sunk deep and twisted around.’
‘The eel I saw was the one lying deep and quiet and alone in his coppery pool in the bush.’ 2016 Commonwealth Short Story Prize – regional winner for Europe and Canada.
‘It was in January, I think. That weekend, more than any other, the thought of her leaving seemed impossible.’
The Conveyor Belt
‘Tall men that looked like insects crept out of cracks in the stones.’
Memoirs of a Polar Bear
‘I was perfectly content with my new life until I began to write my autobiography.’
What’s Not There Can’t Hurt You
‘A shadow gained body and grew, looming over the bed, and he caught the impression of long teeth and many limbs, smelled something claylike and vegetal.’