Purple Threads

Thursday had always been Aunty Boo’s shopping day. Most days when she drove us to school she went straight home again and did her farm work, but on Thursdays she stayed in town all day and visited Aunty Rose when the shopping and banking were done. This was also our day for getting special food […]

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Dear Doctor Guimaraes, We have only had a couple sessions of therapy and troubles have already begun. My inability to talk with you has surprised me too. Still, since reading is my greatest habit (and writing my greatest pretension–that’s why I came to you in the first place, because I haven’t been able to write in […]

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The Sea, The Sea

Lucy Nugent wrote the words THE SEA on the blackboard, on a faint, chalky palimpsest of the previous day’s classes. ‘Ok’, she shouted, ‘how many of you boys have seen the sea?’ ‘I have Miss.’ ‘Have you Johnnie?’ She tried to keep the disbelief from her voice. ‘Yes Miss, on the TV.’ The rest of the kids sniggered. ‘Anyone else?’ ‘We’ve all seen it on […]

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Man in a Suitcase

Man in a Suitcase depicts a cross-section of New Zealand’s diverse Asian communities, from the descendants of the earliest immigrants to the contemporary difficulties facing mainland Chinese students who have come to study at university. The main drama concerns the murder of Wen Lin, a gay Chinese exchange student who, struggling to fit in in a […]

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Opening the River Up to the Sky

byPhilip Graham In the fall of 2015 I attended Sun Yat-sen University’s first annual International Writers’ Residency, which brought together fifteen writers from eleven countries around the world: Australia, Belgium, Canada, China, Egypt, Great Britain, India, Mexico, the Philippines, New Zealand, and the United States. All the invited writers either write in English or have […]

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Reuben Gelley Newman – Frame Loop // Disintegration Loop

Reuben Gelley Newman Frame Loop // Disintegration Loop for Arthur Russell and Julius Eastman; after Peter Zummo and William Basinski [A Tape] William Basinski cradling an old         cassette in his hands,                  hearing the easy                           melody                                    dis- integrate over the course         of an hour as the tape                  loops on, breaking down                           as if it were                                    a […]

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Caleb A.P. Parker – Elegy in a Yellow Kitchen

Caleb A.P. Parker Elegy in a Yellow Kitchen I watched my mother drain my father’s—         drained, I watched, my latex gloves the same blue as myfather’s lung out of a tube stuck right into his         running shoes, and soon I would be sprinting byhis side, the fluid neither blood nor         bayou. By and by, we […]

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