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AbstractHistoryArchive Description
his publication is a collection of poems, short stories and essays written by the finalists and winners of the 2011 Northern Territory Literary Awards.
Contents
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Khmoc,
single work
short story
'Phnom Penh today is like any busy South-East Asian city. Almost. Around the
crumbling French mansions and washing-laden tenements, the sounds of construction
vie with the melodies of hawkers, the growl of motos, the shouts of pedestrians. But
its traffic doesn’t have the frantic breakneck press of Hanoi; it lacks the towering high rises of Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur. Ghosts of loss fill the empty spaces between taxis and four-wheel drives, between the not quite crowded sidewalks. Something is missing. Someone. Many someones. ...'
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The Fish and the Hiccup,
single work
short story
'The boy carried a fish in a tea cup in the palm of his hand. The girl had a hiccup in a silk purse in her pocket. The clouds skidded across the sky and the damp grass squelched and squeaked beneath their feet. The girl sat to rest on a park bench under a jacaranda tree by the creek. The boy sat by her side, and placed the tea cup with the fish carefully on the ground beneath them. As he did this the girl quickly opened her purse, pulled out the hiccup and swallowed it. She was worried the boy might try to kiss her. They sat together and felt the breeze become wind on their faces. The girl wondered if it would rain. The boy wondered if they would kiss. ...'
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This Poultry Business,
single work
short story
'I am a dog. I don’t have a vote, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have a voice. My name is Annie. I am a Border Collie. I have another name, but it is long and complicated and is only used when I am taken to beauty contests. My mother is called Kanga. She is old. My father’s name was Biggles. He died when I was only a few months old. I don’t remember much about him except that he was very kind to me unless I went near his food bowl. My mother says that he was a fast and deadly lover. ...'
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Turtle Eggs,
single work
short story
'I like hanging from the fence at the airport. Sometimes I grab the fence up high and just hang like a monkey and my feet don’t touch the ground. This feels good and I like how my back stretches but I have to hold on tight and the tips of my fingers turn white. For a few seconds I have white fellah’s fingers. White fellah fingers on a black fellah. Other times I spread my arms and legs wide and I cling to the fence like a big black spider same like the ones Aunty squashes in the kitchen. That’s me for a minute, a big black spider in footy shorts clinging to the airport fence like it’s my own steel spiders’ web. ...'
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Blind to [all but] the Unnamable,
single work
short story
'Sir, a bony finger tapped in Morse on the back of his hand. Sir, harder this time, insistent, we are approaching ... Creek. Sir, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-taaap-tap. The translator, M, sat up without registering the bright torch being shone directly in his face, or the darkness enclosing the hand, the man, the room and corridor behind it; he smelt the man’s minted breath, tasted the hint of garlic that the mint was sucked to hide; he savoured the superstitious fear that still oozed like cheap perfume from his glands, and the rhythmic rallentando clack-clack over the stapled joins of track. ...'
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The Professor Brocklebank- Jeavons Memorial Biology Lecture on the Early Biohistory of the FAT,
single work
short story
'Greetings, students and Kowabunga! Welcome to this annual lecture
commemorating the work of Hugh Brocklebank-Jeavons, the famous surfing
biologist. ...'
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Photographing Toast,
single work
short story
'Ryl can smell the burning toast as she climbs the steps. There is always this smell in housing commission flats. Often there will be three-minute noodles or bacon or chips frying, too. But it seems to Ryl that there will always be someone, somewhere, making toast. Convenient, versatile and dead easy – toast is the queen of comfort food. ...'
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Everything Is Different Now,
single work
short story
'That first day, unfurling clothes in Cate’s bedroom, there is a moment when we are both naked and I look up to find her standing at the end of the bed, watching me with her red bathers in one hand. She crosses the room in two steps and puts her hand on my belly, bending so her face is at my waist and then, with her fingers spread wide across my abdomen, she looks up, into my face, and I see her eyes are the palest blue and then she grins, ‘Who’d have thought, hey?’ ...'
- Under Attacki"that first grey metal bird, he would always remember.", single work poetry (p. 47-49) Section: dymocks Red Earth Poetry Award
- Afgan Grave, Outshirts of Wyndham, NW Australiai"black stone juts into sky.", single work poetry (p. 50-51) Section: Dymocks Red Earth Poetry Award
- Ngarraitj Warde Djobkengi"You follow the creek up into the stone country", single work poetry (p. 52)
- Stormingi"thirteen is unlucky like me stuck", single work poetry (p. 53) Section: dymocks Red Earth Poetry Award
- Falleni"Out here we say What? to each other", single work poetry (p. 54-58) Section: Dymocks Red Earth Poetry Award
- Colonial Inscriptionsi"No one said much", single work poetry (p. 59-60) Section: Dymocks Red Earth Poetry Award
- Fry Priestessi"the morning after", single work poetry (p. 61-62) Section: Dymocks Red Earth Poetry Award
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The Streets of France,
single work
short story
travel
'We read, study, research, listen to and Google a plethora of information on France in readiness for our trip. We go with our preconceived ideas, our anticipation, and our guarded suspicions that some of the negative things we’ve heard might be real. And we go with an open mind, to soak up as much as we can, to immerse ourselves in all things French and to have a damn good time. But, while preparation is a good thing and it serves us well, we find the real experience is something else altogether. ...'
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Death in the Andes,
single work
poetry
'Otra muerte en las montañas’ declared the front page of Mendoza’s daily newspaper Diario Uno. If there was any uncertainty about the meaning of the headline, the full colour photograph of the body, lifeless in a pool of blood on the snow, erased it. Vale Shigeru Kimura of Japan, found dead at 6000 metres above sea level at the base of the rocky and difficult canaleta. He came to Argentina to climb Cerro Aconcagua, 6962 metres, roof of the Americas, second highest of the Seven Summits. ...'
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Road Trip through Timor,
single work
short story
travel
'I’ve hitch-hiked in China, been skydiving in New Zealand and eaten dog in Tonga, but it’s in Timor-Leste that I really decide to take my life in my hands. ...'
- Imagining Darwin, single work essay (p. 77-84) Section: Charles Darwin University Essay Award
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A 'Place' for Reconciliation in Indigenous Writing,
single work
essay
'The Northern Territory is often remarked for its rich cultures and unique landscape. It is home to many Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians, and the overall population quickly growing. The city of Palmerston (approximately 21 kilometres from Darwin) is expanding at such a significant rate that a number of new suburbs (such as Bellamack) are being especially designed with consultation from residents about the construction of ‘place’. ...'