An Herstorical Perspective
Jean Taylor

One of the political aspects of the Women’s Circus is the fact that it’s part of a feminist continuum of women’s circus theatricals here in Melbourne.

‘In 1979, the Real Mighty Bonza Whacko Women’s Circus leapt through flaming hoops, trod domestic tight ropes and trained bags of reluctant washing to do tricks,’ wrote Robyn Laurie for the first issue of the Women’s Circus Newsletter in April 1991. ‘Over the next few months they

Mother-Cat
Heather Cameron

She is silent in her approach but I know she is there, as she pushes her nose against the door. It is the cold time of the morning, just before dawn and, from within my burrowed-warmth, I can see the misting rain settling on the greyness outside. She sits now at the end of my bed, calmly licking the silver fine droplets from her fur. I watch her. I hold out my hand, and her steady green gaze flicks across me. She delicately steps her way across my

Beginnings
Giti Thadani

How does one recount the beginning of a journey? Where does it start, and where does it reach its climax? Its incompleteness starts yet another cycle, another threshold to be crossed or attained.
The crossroads become a leitmotif, a symbol that operates and connects at many levels. For me, in this context, it is the intersection of internal and external geographies—between strange, unfinished memories and the uncanny revelations of the present.

loquat jelly lips
Francesca Rendle-Short

Marj’s lips were the colour of the finest loquat jelly that summer. From a jar her friend gave her, Molly spread the syrupy mixture onto buttery toast each breakfast.
The night before Kevin arrived home from a fortnight in Yass, the two women drank hot black tea together. The ceiling fan whirred. As they parted, Molly licked Marj’s transparent-red lips in a nip of a kiss. Loquat jelly lips. Sugary sweet and sticky.

Francesca

My Wonder Dog
Doris Kartinyeri

I look at my dog with some sadness. She is old now. I have had her since she was a puppy.
Her name is Sharah. Sharah is sixteen years old. I watch her carefully. She does not hear me approach her as she is deaf. She also suffers with arthritis.
My Wonder Dog has had a stroke but she fought back and fully recovered. She is a smart dog. Sharah is a Border Collie-Kelpie. Her colouring is black-and-white.
She has the right to live. I would never