Author Archives: lizziebarratt

We came to a broad track, wide and verdant in the green light of the shifting leaves overhead. Two chalky white lines had been worn into the grass, one on either side, and at the edges were white daisies and young elderflowers and Queen Anne’s Lace. The sweetness of honeysuckle covered the rude scent ofContinue reading “Journey”

The door locked behind her with a heavy thud and the scrape of metal on metal as the bolt slid home. Behind her, the laughter of the guards. In front of her, a room full of straw. The late afternoon light beamed honey through high barred windows, illuminating the stacks so that the straw glowedContinue reading “Straw”

She was the queen of snark and her tongue was as sharp as obsidian. When she cut you with her words, no matter that your self-esteem was sliced and garnished and arranged like so much sashimi on a plate, she nevertheless left no scar, just a sense of awe, and sometimes, an admiring snort ofContinue reading “Sharp”

His horse was skittish, pricking its ears back, glancing around, and dancing sideways at the sight of a branch on the path. ‘Steady on, fellow, steady on Jack’, he murmured soothingly. ‘Nearly home’ They were not nearly home. They were miles away, and at this rate, would still be riding in the dark. Louisa wouldContinue reading “The Traveller”

Sam hated the new baby. Truth was, Sam hated everyone these days. Since Dad had left and Mum had married The Loser and Sam had changed schools and Em had stopped speaking to him, nothing was good anymore. He slouched around mostly trying to avoid people. It worked OK at school, where he sat inContinue reading “Baby”

I woke up slowly, lying quiet for a while before opening my eyes. I tended towards homesickness in the mornings. It was the combination of the ozone smell and the rushing of wind in the leaves that made me imagine I was back there, near the sea. On bad days I would keep my eyesContinue reading “Tale”

Sue brought a small, battered, tea cannister out onto the veranda and squinted at the sky. In the hours since her husband Greg had left for the shearing, she had not seen another living soul. The outdoors called to her. She had the strange feeling that it was trying too hard. All this blue, allContinue reading “Hollyhocks”

When Olivia woke up and found she had metamorphosed into a giant cockroach, her first feeling was one of relief. Now, finally and unequivocally, she would not be able to go to work. She lay there on her back waving her new limbs in the air. Olivia’s bed was in the spare room. When theyContinue reading “Metamorph”

Eva had a gift; had had it, in fact, since she was born. No, before she was born. When she was a baby in the womb, visible only in the form of an occasional footprint on the drum of her mother’s belly, she could already call the elements to her. Sigrid, her long-suffering mother, feltContinue reading “Gift”

A few months after my brother dies, I book myself in to see a counsellor. It seems like the sensible and responsible thing to do, if only to reassure everyone who suggests, with a slight sense of panic, that I See Someone. It turns out to be a mistake, though. What can I say? TheContinue reading “Seeing someone”