Death of a romantic
IN my early 20s I lived in a share house – with one particular flatmate I barely knew.
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Death of a romantic
IN my early 20s I lived in a share house – with one particular flatmate I barely knew.
Creatively confined
“DADDY’S spending his birthday in jail,” the four-year-old’s declaring to all and sundry as I run around hosing spot fires of speculation.
A car is a woman’s shed
THE scene: the local pool with a bunch of school mums, my four-year-old gently strumming her fingers through my hair.
ABC of equality
“HAVING your prospects determined at birth is the most pernicious and fundamental form of inequality.”
Eyes wired open
I have a fractious relationship with the dark hours; we fall in and out of love.
The last taboo
Is this the last frontier of sexual honesty? Men who don’t have sex. I know they’re out there. But are they talking about it?
Losing face
IT’S probably the angle. It couldn’t be that bad. But there’s a faint whiff of Bride of Wildenstein about it.
A grand gesture
THE elderly couple look like they’re ready for the six o’clock Chinese meal at the RSL.
There’s a place for us
HENRY James called it “a great good place” – a special place of calm and retreat that’s just for you, no one else.
Original URL: https://www.theaustralian.com.au/author/nikki-gemmell/page/51