Gang Turf_A Mother's Cookie_Pop Tarts and Lock Boxes_The Garnet Bracelet
Catalog Guide:
Gang Turf
Cody wasn’t supposed to be working that evening but that was the night where everything changed for him; he stood on the door of Club Ruby in Kings Cross, a bouncer at the most popular club in Sydney. They had started him off working inside but the manager Michelle, the person who decided who to let in and who to reject from the club, had taken a shining to him and decided his look would help the image of the club. Cody was young, handsome and completely covered in tattoos from his hands up to his ears.Cody was pleased to be standing outside, there really wasn’t too much to the job; the manage...
A Mother's Cookie
“The secret ingredient, my dear, is love,” Tina remembers her mum saying. She remembers the baking weekends when they would spend all day covered in flour, aprons draped over their clothes. The sound of rolling pins against the cold, hard, marble tabletop. The wonderful smell of cookies that came from a metal box with buttons that light up when you press them. She remembers grabbing a ball of dough with her chubby toddler hands, and placing it in her mouth. She didn’t understand why her mum had such an odd expression on her face whenever she did that. She would raise her eyebrows, her eyes wou...
Pop Tarts and Lock Boxes
In the corner, slumped into an armchair, I watch as Ruth, Alex, and Daniel prepare to leave the house. Daniel slips on a pair of blue knit gloves, a pair that his mother sent him for Christmas. Alex laces up his work boots, boots he bought when he wanted to build a shed in the dirt out back. Ruth lifts up her unbuttoned flannel shirt and tucks a handgun between her T-shirt and her jeans. Jeans covered in paint from when we painted Alex’s shed. “You sure you can’t come?” Ruth asks. I shake my head slowly. “I’m way too sick. I’ve felt awful all day.” Since last night I’ve felt tired, nauseous, ...
The Garnet Bracelet
The Garnet BraceletWet rag of the sea pounded the low white sands of the deserted beach. During out drive the familiar flatness of the Baltic has changed unexpectedly. The calm waters turned into the roaring bottle-green waves smelling of salt and something pungent, disgusting yet strangely comforting. This is the smell of the person you are falling out of love with.I was falling out of love with G., tired of his jealousy, spiralling druwww.onedoor.ccnkenness, and preference for semi-automatic assault rifles. I mentally calculated the retreat strategy. He knew my address and my phone number but both could...