Articles tagged ‘Meditations’.
By T Crofton Croker Mrs Sullivan fancied that her youngest child had been exchanged by “fairies theft”, and certainly appearances warrante...
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By Josephine Emery Episode 6 The other day I gave a hitcher a lift from Castlemaine to Maldon. He was stumbling along the road carrying a metal detect...
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This story was submitted anonymously to CI. The writer appears seriously unhinged, but that hasn’t stopped us from publishing any of the others....
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Part 5 By Josie Emery I stand at the back door with my morning coffee in my hand. A bird bursts into song in the garden and then flutters from its tre...
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By T. Crofton Croker The ancient burial-place of the Cantillon family was on an island in Ballyheigh Bay. This island was situated at no great distanc...
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Episode 4, Josephine Emery I’m writing this in Sydney, at my old apartment to which I’ve returned to finalise moving out and returning to Maldon...
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By Anatole France* As I understand criticism it is, like philosophy and history, a kind of novel for the use of discreet and curious minds. And every ...
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Episode Three by Josephine Emery Stories. So many stories swarming in my head. How I envy Plato, Homer, Sophocles and all. They got in first. Well, th...
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Set in the historic house and gardens at Buda, the inaugural Castlemaine Children’s Literature Festival will take place in the second week of th...
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By Mary Pomfret Most writers know about this one. You go to the letterbox and you find a bank statement, the electricity bill and a brown envelope add...
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By Andrew McKenna (First published in Terra Incognita, a bilingual journal of literature, art and commentary) ‘But they didn’t kill him,’ I said...
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Part two by Josephine Emery Today I found I had written myself into a dead end. It was not a day of high inspiration. It was a ‘just do it’, kind ...
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By Andrew McKenna The shy mysterious poet Arthur Stace, Whose work was just one single mighty word. Arthur Stace started early, usually before ...
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By Josephine Emery I set up my writing station in the sunroom. Northerly aspect so it is light-filled all day. I filled the woodbox and tended the woo...
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By Rosa Raco I love old people. They regale you with stories of people and times long gone, offer you tea out of china cups and always have the time t...
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Is independent media important to you? At Castlemaine Independent we offer an independent, free news service. It’s free to subscribe and we want...
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There was once a pretty young girl with no husband, no father, no mother, no brothers, no kinsfolk: they were all dead and gone. She lived alone in a ...
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OF THE DIFFERENT WAYS OF LYING DOWN, AND VARIOUS KINDS OF CONGRESS On the occasion of a ‘high congress’ the Mrigi (Deer) woman should lie ...
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Donald Edwin Westlake (July 12, 1933 – December 31, 2008) was an American writer, with over a hundred novels and non-fiction books to his credit. He...
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A Navajo tale from the long collection of tales about Coyote. Coyote was walking one day when he met Old Woman. She greeted him and asked where he was...
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By Kristen Krcmar* It’s around 4pm. They trod in like buffalo to a water hole, thirsty for a drink. These B.O-ridden arseholes don’t even have the...
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College Street in Kolkata is the throbbing home of a maze of old book shops and stalls and this traditional place of learning and trading hosts the la...
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By Rita McInnes A dream woke me last night. I was walking alone in the bush (in my dream that is) when I came to a rise that was treeless. At the top ...
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By Gloria Meltzer Sadly, our society has tended to be an individualistic rather than a sharing society. And our ageing population is paying the price ...
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There was once a bald man who sat down after work on a hot summer’s day. A fly came up and kept buzzing about his bald pate, and stinging him fr...
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By Zakariyya Tamir Abu Fahad was returning to the house, walking at a slow pace, a little groggy, through a narrow winding passageway illuminated by s...
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By Fernando Sorrentino Translated from the Spanish by Michele Aynesworth In the southeast region of the provincial plains of Buenos Aires, you might c...
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Occasionally a story comes along that’s a gem, a story that is a reason in itself to publish Castlemaine Independent. This is one of those stori...
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By Andrew McKenna First published in Talking River Review ‘I like this,’ Bruckmeyer announced to no one in particular. Flames billowed in the dar...
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By Martin English This whole “paying money at Uni” thing has gotten right out of hand, because generation Zzzzzz is letting it happen. You pay t...
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A wolf had been gorging on an animal he had killed, when suddenly a small bone in the meat stuck in his throat and he could not swallow it. He soon fe...
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