I wrote these under duress!

I suspect I will grow to find all of these very embarrassing eventually, but, hey, I got pretty good marks off them all, at least.

The Gardener
A nobody on a nowhere-planet barraged by a war he does not bother to fathom reflects on his choice of occupation. It’s a fun time. Probably the oldest story on this site, at least out of my uni work.

A Prophet for the God of Empty Places
The surreal, liminal journey of Collin Frisbee as he attempts to dig the God of Empty Places out of his backyard in the suburbs, and the strange things he sees (or doesn’t).

North Head
A nonfiction story about the legacy of the Quarantine Station at North Head and all the legends and hauntings surrounding it. I find this one a bit cheesy but the tutors loved it.

Goodbye, Saint Chromatophore
The shattered and polyhedral remnants of a Catholic and a Minor Prester of Saint Chromatophore reminisce on the end of the world and the discomforting awkwardness of the revelation that the one true religion was a small cuttlefish cult on a small island somewhere between France, Portugal, and Ireland.

I’ve had this joke in my mind for a while, now, and I’m not quite sure if I’m even done with it for this story: what if it turned out the one true religion was actually just this really shitty small one on an island nobody even knew about?
This story is more my experimentations with nonlinearity–nonlinearity of plot time, and nonlinearity of point of view, and so on. You can see a little bit of how Station Custodian’s ideas evolved into this.

The Melting of Ash-Boy
A short foray into the smelly and underwhelming life of the famous Ash-Boy. Inspired somewhat from Frankenstein.