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The Gift by Lui Sit

Flinging my leg over my red bike, I shunt forward, trundling out of the backyard down the bitumen driveway. Our cul-de-sac is unusually still for late Sunday afternoon in Huntingdale. All the neighbourhood kids must’ve been called in already, either now watching Sunday sports with their parents or being scrubbed clean before dinner time.
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The Woman of Parts by Fiona Mossman

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Until My Dying Day by Lesley Bungay

She wanders on the clifftop, lingering near the crumbling schoolhouse. Deserted now for fear of the advancing ocean. Their place. Safe. Far from prying eyes and prejudice. She senses movement, turns to speak his name. But no answer returns, no figure emerges. Only ethereal shadows of children play, their muffled tones echo amongst the ruins.…
