Spilled Milk & Sunsets


NIKKI F. THOMPSON
Seasonal

Adding up to 40


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I am not a ‘numbers’ person. I failed my Year Twelve maths half-yearly because I preferred to read the examples rather than practice them. Then my parents hired a handsome, exceptionally tall swiss math’s tutor called Kris, and I sat down and worked. Sort of. And yet, despite my arithmetic deficiencies, for the last few

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Faith

A Very Restless Christmas


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Our eldest comes into the kitchen, stands close beneath my chin and asks me if she can have some flour. ‘We’re not cooking now!’ I reply in my shout-speak. It’s a variation of my usual mum dialect, one I’ve developed on our recent interstate relocation in soaring summer temperatures. I like to think the new environment

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loss, Memories of my brother

Grief Seeds


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And so, here we are again. You’d think, nearly two decades later, we’d know how to do this. This day. November 13. Outside my bedroom window the inner-city Sydney traffic huffs and sighs, rumbling toward afternoon’s end, and evening’s slow descent. Downstairs, our angel-friend Rocel clatters in the kitchen, helping us juggle this crazy end of

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