The Canton Lead
Two men and a woman had me pinned to the ground. The woman had a pair of shears. She roughly turned my head and cut off my queue, holding it aloft, a growl of triumph as she brandished my hair for the mob. I struggled, a leg free, finding a groin, hearing a grunt, and…
Balang’s instruction
This is Dungbon country, about 80 kilometres south of Maningrida, Central Arnhem land. I am sitting with my ngadjadj. You call him my mother’s brother, my uncle. We are on a ledge; high and shaded, a commanding position with the soft early morning light casting deep shadows across the valley below. Over the past few…
Skinning the cat
I’m not going to let this develop into a row, but … I mean, we’ve taken the long drive down to her place every year since the kids were little. I know Margaret’s getting on, but she talks incessantly and blathers about the doings of her neighbours and distant relatives: I’ve never met most of…
About Me
Hi, Chris Burchett here. I am a late discoverer of the ultra short-story genre, but what a delightful find it has been! Covid-enforced isolation was a perfect stimulant. Enjoy the stories included here. I will continue to add new entries as they are written.