Tristyn Harrison Boris Glikman Linda Hutchison Juan Antonio Polanco Samuel Elliott Eugen Bacon Amanda Yip Balaji Narayanaswamy
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Hello writers and readers, and welcome to the June edition of Unearthed Fiction! The theme for this month is Micro Fiction Challenge. In keeping with our creative challenge for 2016, we invited our writers to be brave and accept the challenge to Write a story in 100 words. I hear a collective gasp, ?Is it possible for a story to be told in 100 words?? Well read on dear friends, you will be pleasantly surprised. I am very proud to feature a dazzling collection of tantalising tales from our very talented bunch of writers as they introduce you to the fascinating world of micro fiction. While some of the tales follow a particular theme, others invite the reader to explore an idea or to ponder the mysteries and complexities of life. Dear Duchess provides us with some tasty tips on how to write to a specific format, and Tristyn Harrison explores the art of micro fiction and how economical word usage can transform our storytelling. Happy reading!
Editor's Note
Letters to the Editor
Dear Duchess 10
Monthly Writing Exercise
Making every word work for you 16 Ocean in a fishbowl 21 The Pacifying Ocean 22 Waking up to life 23 An absence of absence 24 The birth of nothingness 26 Escape 27 To Die For 28 To Live For 29 To Ache For 30 To Pray For 31 To Seek For 32 An Inhale 34 Not Tonight 36 Ivy 38 A Story About A Story. Character Issues, Unwritten Stories. Warring Artisans 40 # Birth 46 # Rain 48 # Victory 49 # Better half 50 # Hero 52
Diana Jane Heath
Unearthed Fiction Editor

Submissions Archives Did you know?
We are always on the look out for new submissions to the Unearhted Fiction Magazine. Stories can be sent directly For a look back at our past issues, click here:
The Australia Times Fiction Magazines
Meg Hellyer is a freelance writer and editor living in Melbourne. She has sub-edited for a range of publications that include ArtsHub, Ferntree Gully News, and The Pun, and is also the author of several short stories. Growing up surrounded by books, Meg has always had a love of literature. When she is not editing for The Australia Times, she often finds herself writing about the people she sees on trains. You can find out more about Meg at her website, www.meghellyer.com. Diana Jane Heath is a freelance writer and editor living in Sydney. Her passion for creative writing led her to complete an online Bachelor of Communication through Griffith University, with two majors: Screen Studies and Creative Writing. Her website www. creativedestination.com. au features a collection of short stories, microfiction and poetry, and a weekly blog that is dedicated to empowering aspiring writers. Her work has appeared in online publications such as www.short-story.me, and www.ezinearticles.com. Alexia Derbas studied Writing and Cultural Studies at the University of Technology, Sydney. She writes all sorts of things and doesn't do much else, though a great deal of her time is spent bush walking. This occurs under the guise of scouting out perfect writing locations. Her work has appeared, or is forthcoming in various publications including Seizure, Voiceworks and the Spineless Wonders Writing to the Edge anthology. She tweets with regret @lexderbas .
Editor Bios

Tristyn Harrison is an emerging writer and amateur blogger with an interest in all things fantastical. She writes for herself first, shaping the raw mass of creation and inspiration into stories that reach in and pluck the heart- strings. Amongst the daily hustle and bustle of life, she alternates between finding time to work on her first novel, perfect her craft, and revisit the work of authors who have shaped her life's journey. Tristyn is based in Sydney?s Inner West, and founded the Emerging Fantasy Writer's Group as a way to help other local emerging writers find the magic in their writing.

Dear Overwhelmed, Take a moment to groom yourself and calm down. Yes, there is a lot of information out there. Using the internet, almost everything you can think of is at your fingertips. As with anything, before you start looking, you have to know exactly what you?re looking for. Have it clear in your head, pull out the keywords and use them to search online. Check out at least three different links on each. Go to a book-store and look at books on writing. Ask other writers for advice. Read the writing exercises in TAT Unearthed and the discussions in TAT Fiction. Check out the Facebook page and ask us questions. If you?re looking for tips on writing format for submissions, check out the submission guidelines for your preferred publisher(s), which are usually indicated on their website. If you?re looking for the format or structure for different writing styles, look for articles on that specific style. Be specific. Above all, stay calm. The more you read, the more you?ll know. That includes reading just for fun. Every time you read someone else?s work, it gives you hints on how to make your own better. Much love and fish.

(to have a strong or persistent desire), obsessive (haunting or excessively preoccupying the mind), pensive (musingly or dreamily thoughtful).

wished? she could reach it
? here, the desire is posed as a wish to leave where she is and go somewhere else. In terms of phrasing, we could shorten this to a word; envision (to picture oneself), aspire (to seek to attain or accomplish a particular goal), imagine (to form a mental image of something not present) or yearn (to long persistently, wistfully or sadly).
Which of these add the most value?


Cow and moon are the simplest form of the idea, and can stay as they are.


Desolate carries the most emotion of the synonyms for loneliness, and therefore has the highest impact.


Yearn carries the most appropriate meaning in this case, due to the longing, and also carries the emotional weight to be significant. Finally, put it together and try it out;
?Desolate, the cow yearned to escape to the moon.?
Now try shaping the sentence to give it slightly different meanings. Here are a few examples of how I modified the above sentence;
?Enhanced Bovine 5894921 gazed at the moon and imagined exploring its newest settlement.? ?Buttercup imagined a leap so powerful she could reach the moon.? ?A solitary cow speculates about being on the moon.? ?Moon, meet Cow, she mused.?
So now it?s your turn to try your hand at a full flash fiction story. Remember, every word counts.

Happy writing!

One day, as I was taking my doggie for a walk along the beach, I saw a goldfish in its bowl, floating along the edge of the ocean. Someone had obviously taken pity on their imprisoned pet and given it a taste of unbounded freedom, convincing the fish it was swimming without restraint. At once it struck me . . . this is what my own existence has been all along; all this time convinced I was swimming freely in the vast ocean of life, whilst actually stuck in an impermeable puny cell, carried along helplessly by the inexorable currents.
Ocean in a fishbowl
By Boris Glikman
Photo Credit: cocoparisienne

The Pacifying Ocean
For a brief moment the wind lifted up the ocean, granting me a glimpse of an outline of something wooden below the surface. It was then that I saw the ocean is nothing more than a crumpled sheet, covering a vast bed frame. There was no longer a need for me to be mortally afraid of the ocean; on the contrary, it was the ideal place to curl up for a relaxing nap. Ooh, I could already feel the delicious and cosy luxury of having a boundless place of slumber all to myself?for no one else knew this secret.
By Boris Glikman
Photo Credit: DasWortgewand

Waking Up to Life
By Boris Glikman
One day, a woman with a gun in her hand demanded of me that I provide good reasons why life is worth living; otherwise she was going to terminate me. "Life is hard, really hard sometimes," I replied to her, "and a lot of times I don't want to go on struggling against the unyielding, overpowering forces. Yet I want to continue living. That is all I can say. I want to live." The interrogator gazed at me with an empty look, deciding on her answer. Just as she was about to make her pronouncement, I woke up to life. Photo Credit: Littlepepper

The Birth of Nothingness
The Universe had given up on matter. Atoms, molecules, solidity had disappointed It ? they never fulfilled the role that Cosmos planned out for them and it was decided to give emptiness a chance to flourish in all of its myriad shapes, forms and permutations. And so mankind, living out its last days, for all matter was slowly being dismantled to make room for nothingness, watched in fascination as the first vacuum baby came into existence. This infant was not made of matter, yet it was a real being nonetheless and the Universe held out great hopes for its new Creation.
By Boris Glikman
Photo Credit: Unsplash

Creeping, sliding, oozing up the dark green surface. Brushed gently by fronds of grass, and tickled by the tiny white flowers of the asparagus fern. Seeking, searching, feeling its way up towards the faint slash of light above it. An obstacle, a branch. It silently slips around it and moves on. A fragrance, the slightly antiseptic scent of rosemary. It stops to savour for a moment, then on it goes. Forwards, gliding, seeping. The light bursts in and it's wrenched from its path. "Snail! What are you doing in the green waste bin? You'll be happier back in the garden."
By Linda Hutchison
Photo Credit: Hans

?It?s nearly time!? they bellowed over the loud speaker. We rushed back into line, pushing and jostling, poking with elbows and shoving with shoulders for more leverage. We strained forwards to the light, anticipation redoubling. Treasures of untold worth lay ahead. Our very life depended on them. Then I saw her fall, immediately swamped by driving forms. A long-drawn out scream, then her sound drowned out by the frantic crowd. The bell clanged as the doors swung open, and the people surged into the building. Behind them she lay lifeless on the concrete ? another victim of the Boxing Day sales.
To Die For
By Linda Hutchison
Photo Credit: B_Me

?You have six to twelve months,? said the Oncologist gently. They looked at each other then back at the doctor. It was time to make some changes. On the way home they decided not to mention the disease again. Too much of their life had been swallowed up by it already. She rang her dive buddy, checked her underwater camera and packed her pink scuba gear in the car. As she slowly drifted out beneath the pier to visit the smooth rays, the squid and the octopus, she knew that this was what she lived for. And so she did.
To Live For
By Linda Hutchison
Photo Credit: Pink Tank Scuba

She had lost him. Forever. It was too hard to bear. She stared unseeingly around her, not noticing the squalid conditions of the camp, the ragged tent and soiled bedding. She had held his hand so tightly, but in the chaos, he had been dragged away from her and all she could hear was him crying out, ?Mama, mama?? It echoed in her head. Pounding. Across the camp, less than a kilometre away, he sat cradled in the arms of an aid worker, crying inconsolably. Two hearts aching unbearably, separated at completely the wrong time, torn apart by man?s pride.
To Ache For
By Linda Hutchison
Photo Credit: Counselling

Children everywhere. So many cheerful faces. Each one so precious and uniquely made in God?s image. Some had bright starts, some didn?t, but all had a bright future if they could but see it. And it was her job to help them find hope wherever life had placed them. She bent down to the undersized boy as he handed her a clumsily handmade card. The drawing on the front showed a small child facing a mountain. She smiled somewhat perplexedly then opened it. It read ?With your prayers, and Jesus? hand, I know I can make it to the top.?
By Linda Hutchison
To Pray For
Photo Credit: Mario Alberto Magallanes Trejo. FreeImages.com

?Hey,? called out a voice from the other side of the bar, which caused Sam to drop the schooner he was filling. Glaring at the face looming in front of him, recognition struck, and Sam regarded Maree, the former love of his life. She affixed him with an apologetic expression. ?We?re at the function.? A man stepped into view, Sam recognised him, Jonathon. Sam?s eyes followed as Jonathon?s hand came to rest on Maree?s. Maree?s ring finger was adorned with a gleaming engagement band. The diamond monstrosity sparkled as if sentient and hostile, blinding him.
By Samuel Elliott
Not Tonight
Photo Credit: splitshire

The writer hauled the artist off his seat by his shirt. ?Stop humming. It?s distracting.? ?You talk to yourself. That?s worse,? the artist shot back. ?It?s part of my job.? ?Humming?s part of my job too.? ?No it?s not.? A hand grabbed both of them of them by the back of their shirt. Without a word, the third occupant threw them out of the room and locked the door. He returned to his keyboard and put on his headphones. Finally, he could concentrate on his music. By Amanda Yip
Warring Artisans

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To book an appointment visit our website or call Caitlin on: Mobile Service We come to you!

By Balaji Narayanaswamy
# Rain
Winter left a trail of fragile brown leaves on footpath. Sudden weight of his foot crumbled them. His sanctimonious smile was short-lived when he felt her presence. She had been stalking him for a while. Her black robe moved with elegance. Mischievous! His rapid strides didn?t stop her from sending flowers. The cool breeze carried her scent; hugging and seducing him. His legs raced for a vantage point, unlike his obsessed mind. She smiled with a tinge of schadenfreude. Finally, he sighed, and she came down showcasing pleasures. Kiss! She made love leaving her wetness. His first showers of rain.
Photo Credit:

By Balaji Narayanaswamy
# Victory
Was the wind trying to shove him aside? A gust of dust puffed up and he gained momentum towards the race. His mind raced through realms of victory, unending praise and money. Lost in the gimmick, he tripped and landed on the gravel. Soon his fellow competitors marched to bridge the gap. With his pride taken a beating, he expected a mystical force to beckon him. Strangely, his dad?s voice echoed, "Winning is more about how you rise after each fall." Soon, the strained muscles were ready for another pounding. He rose against gravity leaving behind his competitors and failures.

By Balaji Narayanaswamy
# Better half
With the blue ocean sprawled across him, he gazed at the numerous sea gulls. He felt like a king with abundant wealth to masquerade his grievances. He wondered, what could be his greatest fortune? Vast empire? With a gazillion thoughts pondering his mind, he saw a beautiful woman approaching him. She was like an angel with a serene smile. With no humane form, she transformed herself into butterflies that dotted one half of his body. With the dream still lingering, he woke up feeling like a butterfly man. With no butterflies, he smiled at his beautiful wife, the greatest gift. Photo Credit: Larisa-K

People who are just beginning to write are often described as ?emerging?. The word calls to mind the first leggy creatures crawling out of the primordial ooze. And maybe that?s apt, because our first attempts at writing can often feel awkward, clumsy, weird-looking or gross. At Unearthed we want to welcome your primordial ooze animals. We?d like to be a safe place where new writers can read each other?s work, talk about their own, and pitch their stories for publication without fear, knowing that they?ll receive detailed feedback. We hope that you enjoy this edition, and encourage you to send us your work!
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From the TAT Unearthed Fiction Team