Jane Blaikie A Sunday, he’s sixteen, works four hours, no pay, a trial in the New World butchery. Impresses a grid on mince, bins dated steak. Gets a Warehouse job instead, zero hours but paid to train. The demos are watching Adirondack zombies hunt New York vampires while a shooting star takes out …
Category: 2017
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/jane-blaikie-2017/trumps-election-week/
Easter story, Kilbirnie
Mary-Jane Duffy Are you completely dead or is part of you still alive – like your inflatable brain or your softening lungs? Or your spleen so splendid in its isolation? Or is it your digestive system digesting what is truth and what is faecal? Or your knees so achy and feeble surely no means …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/mary-jane-duffy-2017/easter-story-kilbirnie/
The slag belt polka
Marlon Moala-Knox [to the tune of ‘Ievan Polkka’] Up the stream from the Skinner’s port, where the winter’s long and the summer’s short, Paolo slept and kept his clothes in a hollowed-out Subaru. Vincent had a shack with windproof walls in a spot next to the firebug stalls. Paolo, he turned green, you see, …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/marlon-moala-knox/slag-belt-polka/
Alternating facts
Maggie Rainey-Smith My sister and I know there’s a chance that one of us is wrong. There’s no one left in the family to arbitrate. Over decades, our memories have been carefully nurtured, coloured by strong emotions, refined with retelling – to ourselves and others. We don’t clash so much as court each other …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/maggie-rainey-smith/alternating-facts/
True story
Laura Peckyno ‘Jesus, Phil! That’s fucking disgusting,’ I said. Small clouds of sugar dust rose from the corners of Phil’s mouth. His foot rolled one of several empty water bottles protruding from beneath the passenger seat. ‘Sugar. Breakfast of champions,’ he said as he popped the lid back on the Tang can. Fourteen hours …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/laura-peckyno/true-story/
Lady policy
Judith Lofley Reading and writing and re-writing and formatting in government-speak from the timeless void of waffle and wonder turns brains to Weetbix. The worst part is reading the foreword beside the photo of the half-witted grinning Minister who signs in a scrawl of thought or rather, the uploaded image is inserted from the …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/judith-lofley/lady-policy/
Mirrors
Erin Donohue When I look in the mirror I see myself. Sometimes when I’m anxious and unmedicated the psychosis comes back. But mostly when I look in the mirror I see myself. My therapist asks me, again and again, ‘What do you see? What’s there?’ I tell her it’s bad. All bad. My hips …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/erin-donohue-2017/mirrors/
Page 3
Alison Glenny Some days he seemed to fade almost to nothing. The photographs showed a stranger, or a silvery absence that highlighted the small marks of mould and discolouration. The mole above his eyebrow, for instance. Had it always been there, or was it a later addition? Sometimes a creaking stair would make her …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/alison-glenny-2017/extract-farewell-tourist-page3/
Page 2
Alison Glenny Some afternoons a fog rolled down the hallway. On others, the staircase groaned with moisture. A finger laid carelessly on a bannister dislodged a ledge of rime. She lifted the hem of her dress to avoid the damp in the passageway; wore gloves in the kitchen. She was lying in the bath …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/alison-glenny-2017/extract-farewell-tourist-page2/
Extracts from The farewell tourist
Alison Glenny He called it the little observatory. The instrument, he explained, was used for measuring the electrical state of the atmosphere. Its wooden box, with the latch that was too small to be opened by a mittened hand. Later, the photographer disappeared into a bag with only his arms showing. Darkness was necessary, …
Permanent link to this article: https://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/contents-2017-2/alison-glenny-2017/extract-farewell-tourist-page1/
