y separately published work icon Voiceworks periodical issue  
Issue Details: First known date: 2016... no. 104 Winter 2016 of Voiceworks est. 1988 Voiceworks
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Contents

* Contents derived from the , 2016 version. Please note that other versions/publications may contain different contents. See the Publication Details.
Surviving the Apocalypse, Lucy Adams , single work essay
'Each morning, after dusting the brimstone of my boots and zipping up my hazmat suit, I strike out into the acid fog, skipping over toxic waste puddles, on my way to the Voiceworks headquarters. The journey has felt perilous at times, what with the apocalypse still hanging in the air.'

 (Publication abstract)

(p. 4-5)
Sweet Tooth, Eric Butler , single work essay
'I’ve been doing my breathing exercises for an entire year, preparing to blow out this twenty-fifth candle. In for five… hold for five… out for five… perpetually curling up and unfolding. My diaphragm gets stronger with each repetition, but my heart still beats like a sparrow’s.' 

 (Introduction)

(p. 6-7)
Meat, Eda Gunaydin , single work short story
''Wa, it's okay.' Berna chants this privately - enough times a day. A good amount of times a day. Probably thirty to fifty...'

 (Publication abstract)

(p. 9-14)
Orang Asingi"Klang, you’re not so different from the last time I saw you", Mindy Gill , single work poetry (p. 16-17)
A Brief History and Short Future of the Imaginary Sharehouse, Alex Griffin , single work essay

'The student sharehouse might be dying out. When I say sharehouse, it's not with any particular address in mind, no long-decomposed couch dragged home from roadside collection, no TV with the sound gone. I mean the one in our collective imagination, the one that may have only existed in barely remembered stoned conversations on the couch, unanswered texts to heavenly Gumtree ads, or the House of Trouser that Toadie from Neighbours lived in. As personal and shifting as this idea has been, it's always hovered on the fringe of access, maybe over the next page of Gumtree listings, maybe stuck to the noticeboard at IGA, or residing exactly where your friends are moving into next weekend. While the dream remains bewitching, the reality that made it possible might be slipping away. But why does it mean so much? How did the sharehouse become the sharehouse? And if it's going, why?' (Publication abstract)

(p. 19-25)
Prix Fixei"the gap in the venetians lets through", Louise Jaques , single work poetry (p. 26-27)
Anthrax, Kelly Palmer , single work short story

'Annie and Russ are flattening scrunched wrapping paper over the carpet when their mum tells them there is anthrax in the sky and soon everyone will be dead. Russ lets go of his new Matchbox car. Annie scratches at a freckle that might be dirt...' (Publication abstract)

(p. 29-35)
It's Almost Time (Now, This Time, Here, in Leipzig)i"he dangles nikes over balcony", Holly Friedlander Liddicoat , single work poetry (p. 36-37)
The Surprising Psychology of Food, Bartholomew Pawlik , single work essay (p. 41-46)
A More Modern Torsoi"My body in a certain light", Hugo Branley , single work poetry (p. 47)
- And Anyway, We Promised You a Story, Didn't We -, Jonathan O’Brien , single work short story
'- so we might as well get on with it. Pass me my drink, would you -... (Publication abstract)
(p. 49-55)
Bajtar Paradise, Nathan Mifsud , single work essay

'Both my nannus, after they migrated to Australia from Malta, purchased farmland. Paul had a 102- acre property not far from Goulburn. My most vivid memories there are tied to the land, a rolling mass made dense with association, individual synapses linked to each bump and curve of the hard dirt roads. I can instantly recall the spot where a red-bellied snake bit me, the rabbit warren visited at dusk, the grassy slope where we shot clay pigeons, their graceful arcs and violent bursts superimposed on a quintessential pastoral backdrop. I remember waking my nanna, Doris, to wander the frosty paddocks together, picking up thin sheets of ice formed from puddles overnight. And if I close my eyes, I can imagine the snap of gum branches falling and the whispering olive grove, cultivated on a fertile hillside - a distinctly Mediterranean labour of love.' (Publication abstract)

(p. 57-62)
Tectonici"storm-bellied clouds hang hazed", Chloe Mayne , single work poetry (p. 63)
Vertical Wine Tasting, Mikaella Clements , single work short story
'It was a different species. The way she moved, the jerky way she took off her coat, the half-flung elbow near straight into the maitre d's face without a moment of self-awareness. Julia sat at the table with one arm resting on the back of the chair, half leaning to the side, unable to look away. Everything took so much more effort. Everything was full of overcharged energy. By the time Rachel made her way over to lean down and kiss Julia hello, Julia expected her to be out of breath...' 

 (Publication abstract)

(p. 65-71)
Gigi Hadid, Gina Karlikof , single work poetry (p. 72-73)
By the Half Dozen, Ellen Wengert , single work essay

'The year I turned eight, I made my own birthday cake. It was supposed to be a three-tier chocolate gateau with strawberries and cream, but my grandmother set the oven temperature too high and it all fell apart. The blurb in the recipe book described it as an 'elegant cake for very special occasions', with a difficulty rating of three cartoon chef hats. I tried to glue the broken pieces back together with icing, determined to replicate the elegance in the picture, but couldn't get the consistency right. Not enough water and then too much. I was still in the kitchen frantically pressing sliced strawberries into the dripping chocolate mess when my friends started arriving for the party. I could hear them with their parents in the living room being introduced to my newborn sister, my very special occasion having been hijacked five days earlier by Lydia's overdue arrival. Between the incessant crying and the nappy changes and the feeding at all hours, no-one had remembered to organise party games or bake a cake or put together lolly bags. I actually felt sorry for my friends, having to attend such a crap party. Instead of pass-the-parcel, we watched the lingering adults pass Lydia around. When that got boring, we pulled cherry tomatoes off a vine in the backyard and pelted them at each other.' (Publication abstract)

(p. 74-78)
Applesi"In bed he would chew apples with his mouth open,", Jocelyn Deane , single work poetry (p. 82)
Roadkill, Lauren Farquhar , single work short story

'Charlotte accelerated down the rural road, hitting ninety kilometres per hour as she passed the road sign marked sixty. As usual, she let her adrenaline drive her home. It was usually pitch black when she got out on these roads, with only her headlights to guide her, but the moon was peeking through the trees tonight...' (Publication abstract)

(p. 83-87)
Cuspi"6:46 am: exhaustion laced lashes flung", Zhi Yi Cham , single work poetry (p. 88-89)
No Wedding Cake for an Illegal Romance, Kim Lateef , single work essay
'No one knew - or really cared, it seems - whether Akbar was from Afghanistan, the North-West Frontier Province (now Pakistan), or some other British-Indian city. It was 1894 and he found only racism instead of fortune in Perth, Western Australia. Several years later, he dodged permanent deportation under the new Immigration Restriction Act of 1901. Officials took this 'White Australia' policy seriously, being too busy selecting only British and white European immigrants into the new federation to concern themselves with recording Akbar's reason for exemption or background. He persevered as a travelling hawker, selling anything from books to pots throughout regional WA; his unexpected fortune was finding solace in another outsider who, like himself, drifted on the edge of white society.' 

 (Publication abstract)

(p. 91-96)
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