Little Tales

The Young Girl

“You will go home. I promise you I’ll get you home,” the young guy soothed, slipping an arm around her neck.

The cab pushed forward into darkness, the sparkling city lights falling far behind. The young girl looked out into the blackness of nowhere and nowhere near home. She thought of her boyfriend. What if he woke in the night and she wasn’t there? It wasn’t like her to be out so late. It wasn’t like her to get so, so drunk. What had she done? What had she done?

Little Tales: Young Hearts, Hairy Legs

{source}   It was his eyes I noticed first. Even from across the room, they mesmerised me. Pale ocean blue. And they were staring straight at me. “Who is that?” I asked my girlfriend. She glanced in the direction I was looking and smiled. Spoke his name. Huh. Stupid nickname. But still, his eyes. And […]

Little Tales: Cool Manoeuvres

    Saturday, just after midday. I have spent the morning working at a pharmacy in South Yarra. I am wearing a cream blouse and a navy pencil skirt. It is the uniform of the glamorous assistant at the perfume counter at DJs. I am 22. I don’t do glamorous. Or blouses. Or fucking navy. […]

Little Tales: The Baby Daddy

Little Tales: The Baby Daddy

[photo source]   I can’t help but notice him as he boards the already crowded 112 tram in the city. Someone gives him a hand hoisting the pram up the stairs. They place it down just at the top, directly in the doorway. There is nowhere else for him to go. I stand in the […]

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[Photo Source] I wonder does she kiss them goodbye before she goes? No, that would be too hard. And after all, she is just going for milk.  Maybe she holds them a little more closely the night before as she tucks them into bed, takes their little faces in her shaking hands, trying to memorise […]

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Hello friends


I’m Angie!  I mum. I write. I wife. My husband would say this is the correct order.  He’s so neeeedy. I live with my family in Melbourne, Australia, where I complain about the weather for 90% of the year – but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Except maybe in Lake Como, waving to my neighbours George and Amal each morning.

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