Juliet’s Tomb
On the train to Verona, I thought about Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet. When I first watched it, I dreamed I was Juliet night…
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Car Man
I moved house and within two weeks my car is stolen. Welcome to the neighbourhood. The same week a neighbour down the street paints…
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Review of a Band I Hope Never to Hear from Again
Saturday night. The dark dingy back room of a pub. Four guys on stage, mostly guys off the stage. Vocals, guitar, bass and drums….
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On Being Eleven
When we were eleven, we rode bikes, planned secret rendezvous behind the sports-equipment shed and wore masses of butterfly clips in our hair. When…
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Mensa Material
You reach over to steady the dozen drinks in their cardboard trays as you drive back to the editing suites in Santa Monica. You…
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Auntie
The sun flashes through gap-toothed pines. Cottonwood seeds wheel over the white roof of the supermarket, hitting the windows of the cars that rip…
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The Atavistic Tendencies of Kmart
It is a universally acknowledged truth that Kmart brings out the worst in people. And I am not immune to the powers of its…
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Sweet Enough Already
I’m at an interview in Eastbourne, Wellington, saying: I moved here a few months ago and I’m taking some time off uni. I don’t…
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Alone
I squeeze my left hand into a fist and look away as the phlebotomist tightens the tourniquet and comes towards me with the needle….
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