Tall And True Short Reads
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Episodes
Episodes of Tall And True Short Reads
Mark All
If you thought about it, the process for selecting the first matter transference test pilot was archaic, although Mae considered it a lucky omen when she drew the Blue 15 raffle ticket. Blue, not pink, was her favourite colour as a girl, and at
I'm getting too old for this. My speechwriter's pulse quickens as the PM mounts the flag-decked stage, flanked by senior ministers and mining industry executives, to announce her government's green coal plan. Panned by environmentalists and sci
The local dog club, where I volunteered as a trainer for twenty years, ran season-ending Fun Days with events like Fancy Dress, Agility Slalom, Waggliest Tail, and other novelty races that changed from year to year. One of my favourites was the
Excuse me, humanity, please pay attention. I have an urgent message. "What? Not in the middle of my reality TV show!" I'm sorry. I'll be brief. But first, a little background. My message concerns the fate of a pale blue dot in the inky expanse
I open my eyes, blink and try to focus on the bright lights set into the white ceiling flying past overhead. I hear beeps and muffled voices. It feels like I'm strapped to a camp stretcher, but it's moving. I'm on a hospital gurney. What happen
In 1987, my wife and I shouldered our backpacks and set off from Australia. The plan was to live and work overseas in England for two years, using it as a base for UK and wider world travels. And the widest of these were inspired by reading boo
Have you ever had one of those mornings? You know, where everything goes wrong. It's like a farce, a series of mishaps increasing in frequency and intensity that have you howling with side-splitting laughter or shedding tears of frustration.One
Teresa's first thing in the morning text message was a punch in the guts. "Sorry, Colin. I love you, but we're on different journeys. Let's stay friends." I blinked twice to clear my eyes and was about to respond, "Are you serious?" but threw t
I've lost a few things over the years but never imagined losing a story! I only realised I'd "lost" A Window Table when I started working on a blog post to mark my fourth anniversary of writing Furious Fictions. However, when I found and read a
Less than forty-eight hours after receiving her online order, Third Age Cybertronics delivered Jack to Daisy, a sprightly centenarian who purchased the Advanced Companion Droid to help her with household chores and carry her bags when travellin
My first "published" writing was an Enid Blyton-Famous Five-style adventure story, Sand Island, in 1972. I wrote the story and illustrated it with coloured Texta markers. My aunt, the only one in our family with a typewriter, typed up the manus
Eighteen-year-old Hugo glanced up at the train station clock. It seemed time had stood still, with the minute hand barely moved since he'd last checked. He confirmed the time on his watch and then looked at the departure board, breathing a sigh
While sorting through storage boxes at home, I found an old notebook belonging to my son. It wasn't a school exercise book but something he'd jotted and doodled in as a twelve-year-old. Among its random pages was a short story he'd written in 2
If you ask me, the Moon is the best object in the night sky. And you don't need an expensive telescope to observe it. A pair of binoculars does the trick. I'm looking at the Moon now, leaning against a wall to steady my hands, and it's a beauti
"In space no one can hear you scream. But what if you're deep in the backwoods, in an isolated cabin on a dead-end trail?" Karen set aside the book. A horror story was not ideal reading for the off-grid log cabin Peter had booked for their thir
I'm taking a short break from podcasting because I'm going on a long road trip with my son from Sydney to Western Australia to spend Xmas and New Year with our WA family. But as I did in 2022, I've put together a Kris Kringle collection featuri
Cassie lay perfectly still in bed, staring at the shadowy shape on the ceiling overhead. A bulky body and eight legs, a spider, but this wasn't Incy Wincy. It was a huntsman with long hairy legs, needle-sharp fangs, and a jump so powerful that
I discovered microfiction when I reviewed Loopholes by Susan McCreery in 2017. By definition, brevity is the key to good microfiction. The stories in Loopholes range from several paragraphs over one or two pages to only three short sentences. W
"Roses are red, violets are blue, I spend my day, thinking of you." Davey reviewed the poem in his exercise book. "Thinking" is what you did at school. It wasn't romantic enough to attempt Mission Impossible with the girl of his dreams. That's
It's only early spring, but I'm starting to sweat in Mum and Dad's back garden. I wore my dark English suit for Dad's funeral, and if etiquette permits at wakes, I'd like to slip off the coat. Looking around the garden for guidance, I struggle
It's a chilly winter morning, and the central heating has barely warmed my flat. I'm rugged up in a jumper and Ugg boots, and the kettle's boiling. There's a knock at the door, and I know who's there without checking the peephole because I've l
It's a hot summer afternoon, with no sign of the Freo Doctor. Despite the heat, I'm climbing the tree in Gran's backyard with my brothers and boy cousins while our girl cousins chat in a circle in the shade of the back veranda. Like the other b
Trailer
Season Four will start with a multi-part, longer short story I wrote in June 2023, Some Things Change, consisting of three vignettes set in different locations and times but with a common thread: a pair of cousins from Perth, Western Australia,
I fell in love with live theatre when I saw my first London West End play as a newly-arrived backpacker in 1987. Over the next eight years, living in Brighton and Windsor, I attended countless professional and amateur productions. But I didn't
I'm in the middle of a dream, though it might be nearer the beginning or end. Who can tell with dreams? I'm on a rocket, and the final countdown's begun. "10, 9, 8 ..." Then I look down at myself strapped in the seat and see I'm wearing pyjamas
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