Readings Newsletter
Become a Readings Member to make your shopping experience even easier.
Sign in or sign up for free!
You’re not far away from qualifying for FREE standard shipping within Australia
You’ve qualified for FREE standard shipping within Australia
The cart is loading…
This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
Issue Ten of the Fly on the Wall Press magazine series plunges us under the sea. Sixteen international writers and artists explore pull of the deep. Women fall in love with the tides; whales dance for joy. Some creatures grow sea urchin hearts, whilst others eat human hearts raw…
Contributors:
Marcelle Newbold, Carl Alexandersson, Cheryl Bryne, Eleonora Balsano, Elizabeth Gibson, Martina Bani, Diana Sanders (also cover artist) Hannah Brown, Kathryn O'Driscoll, Rupert Locke, Gerry Stewart, Lorraine Carey, Sarah Wallis, Zoe Green, Helen Kennedy and Satterday Shaw.
Samples:
Rottingdean
Helen Kennedy
There’s a body lying on the groyne
wrapped in bladder wrack- difficult to sex.
The sea drags at the rim of gravel
I walk along the under cliff, check out the tide line.
Sometimes our identity is transitory,
exposed to the elements.
returned from the sea.
The price of freedom
Eleonora Balsano
I was born at the bottom of the ocean, and there I will die.
A king’s daughter, murdered by a king’s son, a man who sailed the seven seas, yet he’s afraid of depths.
I didn’t know the word for light, I never needed it in the deep. My father made me out of sand and poured seafoam through my veins. Eels rocked me to sleep in the faint glow of jellyfish and seahorses nibbled at my toes in the morning, gently bringing me back from my dreams.
The Weight of Water
Zoe Green
No accounting for the physiology of it, but lying prone in the water with a mask stuck to her face, she couldn’t cry - as if the mask sealed the tears in. As if the Red Sea had already saltwater enough. ‘It’s impossible to be unhappy snorkeling, ’ Steve had said that morning, ‘right?’, a shadow of desperation in his voice, the skin pegged between his brows. How he’d like her to be happy - though a snarky part of her wondered if that was for his own sake rather than hers.
$9.00 standard shipping within Australia
FREE standard shipping within Australia for orders over $100.00
Express & International shipping calculated at checkout
This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
Issue Ten of the Fly on the Wall Press magazine series plunges us under the sea. Sixteen international writers and artists explore pull of the deep. Women fall in love with the tides; whales dance for joy. Some creatures grow sea urchin hearts, whilst others eat human hearts raw…
Contributors:
Marcelle Newbold, Carl Alexandersson, Cheryl Bryne, Eleonora Balsano, Elizabeth Gibson, Martina Bani, Diana Sanders (also cover artist) Hannah Brown, Kathryn O'Driscoll, Rupert Locke, Gerry Stewart, Lorraine Carey, Sarah Wallis, Zoe Green, Helen Kennedy and Satterday Shaw.
Samples:
Rottingdean
Helen Kennedy
There’s a body lying on the groyne
wrapped in bladder wrack- difficult to sex.
The sea drags at the rim of gravel
I walk along the under cliff, check out the tide line.
Sometimes our identity is transitory,
exposed to the elements.
returned from the sea.
The price of freedom
Eleonora Balsano
I was born at the bottom of the ocean, and there I will die.
A king’s daughter, murdered by a king’s son, a man who sailed the seven seas, yet he’s afraid of depths.
I didn’t know the word for light, I never needed it in the deep. My father made me out of sand and poured seafoam through my veins. Eels rocked me to sleep in the faint glow of jellyfish and seahorses nibbled at my toes in the morning, gently bringing me back from my dreams.
The Weight of Water
Zoe Green
No accounting for the physiology of it, but lying prone in the water with a mask stuck to her face, she couldn’t cry - as if the mask sealed the tears in. As if the Red Sea had already saltwater enough. ‘It’s impossible to be unhappy snorkeling, ’ Steve had said that morning, ‘right?’, a shadow of desperation in his voice, the skin pegged between his brows. How he’d like her to be happy - though a snarky part of her wondered if that was for his own sake rather than hers.