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© A woman fast asleep with devil on stomach: Iconographic Collections2021 SummerT3ESSAYS

The Incubus

One night a goblin told me I was going to die. Unusually for me, I awoke on my back, immersed in blue light. My mind had woken up before my body, so all I could do was stare past my open door into the hallway, at the bureau with the…
Angus Smith
March 16, 2022
Olivia Wright. Uncle Alan and motorbike, Reeves Road.2021 SummerT3ESSAYS

Reeves Road

The kauri tree didn’t last long. They scattered Alan’s ashes on a rosebush at Purewa, but Dad wanted a gravestone, or a plaque – something permanent, closer to home. Across the road from Howick Fire Station, leaves withered up into smoky carcasses, blew away with the wind. The soil, Dad…
Olivia Wright
March 16, 2021
Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash2021 SummerT3ESSAYS


They buried my brother before I was born. Four years, nine months and twenty-eight days is the space between his last and my first breath. I was flesh, a beating heart, chubby-cheeked with a permanent frown, an extension of his name, presumably cocooned in cotton-candy pink at Lautoka hospital’s maternity…
Yashmita Bharat
March 16, 2021
2019 SpringT3ESSAYS

The Gynaecologist

An excerpt from Haystacks to Heroin: It’s complicated with my Mother. I used to have a repetitive dream about her. It was in my last few years at boarding school, a time when I felt very disconnected from my family. My brother was at one school, my sister at another,…
Paula Gosney
December 20, 2019
2019 SpringT3ESSAYS

The House of Erin

When I was twelve Mum opened an Irish shop. Our Irish dancing teacher Clare Connolly had the idea and asked if Mum would go in with her. Mum wasn’t Irish. She was from the small town of Stratford which lay just under the ubiquitous Mt Taranaki but when she married…
Sarah Murray
December 20, 2019
© Angelique Kasmara2019 SpringT3ESSAYS


All day, feeling sideways. But it’s not until ten minutes before the school bell, when I’m zipping up the North Western—and glimpse a white hull cradled on the Waitematā, which makes me think of Dad, and how he used to fish out there in his orange and white Fi-Glass Fireball—that…
Caroline Barron
December 20, 2019
© Kevin Rabalais2018 SpringT3ESSAYS

Brother Francis

I was reading about Chaucer’s Monk, and I thought: I know this person. He lived just down the road.   Chaucer’s Monk is not your usual religious man. He is rebellious, fully alive and in complete control of his existence. Our resident Monk in Puhoi was called Brother Francis. I…
Jamie de Jong
November 20, 2018
© Kevin Rabalais2018 SpringT3ESSAYS


I was afraid to admit that he was the type of person that I simultaneously feared and envied. With his handsome tan, bronze hair and caramel eyes, this American dream boy named Sam drew silent admiration from all of my schoolmates. During that sweltering afternoon, Mrs. Latorre introduced him as…
Aldwin Matawaran
November 20, 2018
© Faith Lodge2018 SpringT3ESSAYS


There was a guy standing opposite me on the Tube. Head shaved to hide a receding hairline, face creased like a used napkin. Wouldn’t look out of place on Jeremy Kyle. I call him Dad, but he’s more like the weird uncle you warn your friends about before they meet…
Faith Lodge
November 20, 2018
© Amanda Jane Robinson2017 SpringT3ESSAYS

Small Country

My father and brother are standing by an old yellow Mercedes Benz I’ve never seen before. Dad’s wearing a pair of blue-tinted aviators. I’m pleasantly surprised — sometimes he wears women’s sunglasses without realising and if a person kindly points it out to him, he doesn't seem to care. As…
Amelia Langford
November 20, 2017