(Highly Commended - Newcastle Herald Short Story Competition 2026) The ghost of your burner’s still here, bro. Top right corner at Queens Wharf, under a Wilko cap. Wilko will never be more than a toy; thinking he can cap your tag with the courage of a street feral marking a power pole when the big dog’s out of sight. Word is Wilko got rolled the other day spraying a nightclub door. Thought you’d like to hear that. Tash reckons he was being paid to do it by another club owner.

(longlisted in the 2025 Sydney Hammond Short Story Competition) My name is Ben. My kids rarely talk to me; it’s not their fault or mine. Just wrong choices bringing pain to too many. Still, they know I love them. Let’s leave it at that because, right now, the pain that’s killing me is on my feet. Every step punishes. And I still haven’t found water. When I turned fifty, I began trekking to balance the monotony of clothes marketing and the misfortune of never taking a busines

(longlisted in the Newcastle Short Story Award 2025) For my ninth birthday they gave me a Seiko watch with a red and navy nylon strap. The sun sulked behind clouds all day, so its glow dots were sleepy. I guessed it was 1am, unless I’d read it backwards. That didn’t make a squeeze of difference. I was just glad to be awake. At the foot of the stairs, the hall clock pushed its minute hand like a labouring Sisyphus. I padded across the checked tiles, worn smooth by decades of

(Highly Commended - Peter Cowan Short Story Competition) A considerable amount of material had washed up from the night’s storm. The receding tide exposed a landscape of driftwood, ruined seaweed, and dead seabirds over the Archean basalts where the cliff line touched the ocean. At the first of the headlands below the brick lighthouse, a figure cloaked in oilskin and beaten sou’wester crawled across barnacled rocks with patient determination. A pre-dawn grey covered his world

(Regional prize in the Newcastle Short Story Award 2024) Labradors, terriers, and kelpies are the household pets and working dogs held in mesh cages along the length of the low aluminium shed. I can’t hear beyond the barking and can’t smell past the dog crap. A long pink tongue licks Charli’s glove like it’s starving, while our fellow inspectors wrestle overwhelmed dogs into slip-leads. The space vibrates with joy, and a primal tension triggered by the presence of men. Every

(Runner-up 2025 Newcastle Herald Short Story Competition) Harrison puts down his drink, takes a corn chip from the dish, then points it...

( Shortlisted in the 2024 Sydney Hammond Short Story Competition) Lincoln Museum’s Donal MacGregor ran his eyes along the rows of Roman...

(Shortlisted in the 2024 Sydney Hammond Short Story Competition) It’s a grubby classroom with scratched tables, uncomfortable chairs, and...

Entering a writing contest is like any competitive endeavour that involves a crowd, with the exception being that you don’t get to see...

(Shortlisted in the inaugural 2023 Ernestine Hill Memorial Short Story Competition) The spring wind has character. Weaned from its winter...

(Highly Commended - Stringybark Short Story Competition 2024) Today’s work clothes lie folded away from everyone’s feet on the bench...

( Second Place - The Best of Times Short Story Competition 2024) On page 25 of the Times Atlas, Chughanutha Island is a tiny green oyster...

(1st Place in the Stringybark Publishing Erotic Short Story Competition 2023) I’ve come to the Blue Dragon for a back tattoo before...

(1st Place in the Sydney Hammond Memorial Short Story competition 2023) Today’s magistrate loathes me. I know because when he looks at my...

(People's Choice Winner in the Newcastle Herald Short Story competition 2023) It was hot, the day we drove to Bingleburra. Dad thought...

(Second place in the Alice Sinclair Memorial Writing Competition 2022) My hands shook when filling the bag and now there’s dust on my...

For those of you out there who write for a hobby, or on the slim chance you are reading this, and you are someone who writes for a...

(Originally submitted to the Best Australian Yarn short story competition 2022, then revised and submitted to the Peter Carey Short Story...

When Sofie asked her mother why she had to give Alice a present, the response was; even when you don’t get along with people, it’s...

Two men stood outside their company boardroom, looking through the glass wall at the assembly inside. ‘Do you think this is a good idea?’...