Tag: Martin Christmas

Are Magpies Gods or Spy Cameras? by Martin Christmas

Sitting on a ledge of the steel and glass office block across the street on level six, a magpie, sitting at one end. Suddenly this magpie runs, hops, along the ledge six levels high, looking, watching the world below, or is it? Every so…

Two Different Dogs by Martin Christmas

Two Different Dogs Out on a morning street trek, coming towards me, an elderly woman pushing a stroller with a small grey child in it. Up close I see I need a Spec Saver check up, a little grey Yorkshire terrier. We chat– the…

Final Fifteen Minutes by Martin Christmas

Cabin in deep forest home alone in upstairs flat. Final fifteen minutes midday movies creepy music. Young woman older guy or younger shonky lover the ending won’t be pretty. He arrives by car by lift by open window music heavy light but always ominous….

Mount Everest Cockroach by Martin Christmas

Standing at base camp in the dark of early night watching this huge cockroach not even donning an oxygen tank about to climb to the summit of Mount Everest and off it goes. Easily scaling the rough trunk terrain the breaks in the track…

Outback ruin by Martin Christmas

Hot sun, cloudless sky. As far the eye sees, flat empty plain. The track threads its lonely way to the shimmering horizon. The merciless sun drums the mulga bush. On one side of the endless track, a homestead slowly crumbling into dust. Roof long…

Seven Thousand Tigers by Martin Christmas

I was dapping through the archives 21st century, olden days, when I came across this cryptic note, ‘Seven thousand tigers left’. But before my birth they’d all been killed. Dad says, ‘Stick to generic brands, son’, so when the food tube came I read…

Sunset Adieu by Martin Christmas

Sun sets. Cloud tips gold. Silver exhaust jets upward through the blue. Sun’s rays fade. Nodding yachts silently dip their masts. Water surface scuds a fond farewell. Sea gulls almost now departed. Mum’s framed image propped up in the front seat, takes a gentle…