Logan The night was a heavy blanket, and my thoughts were the suffocating heat beneath it. The keys clicked under my fingers, a rapid staccato like how rain on a tin roof sounds like a round of applause. Each tap was a reminder of the past—a memory embedded in the code I once used to…

Logan The wind cut through the eucalypts, rustling their leaves like whispers of conspiracy. I waited, back against the rough bark. This was the meeting spot—far from town, where the only eyes belonged to kangaroos and the odd wedge-tailed eagle circling above. “Logan?” Her voice sliced the silence. “Over here,” I called out, stepping into…

Andy Delmonte I sit alone, the office around me a mess of papers and dust. The light from my desk lamp is weak, throwing shadows against the walls like crooked fingers. They blend with the darkness outside my window, a seamless transition from the physical to the metaphorical. The computer screen glares back at me.…

Logan The cell is small. The walls are close. I sit on the edge of my bunk, the cold metal frame cutting into my thighs. My fingers drum a staccato rhythm on the concrete beside me—a silent tune only I can hear. Life in Meningie seems like another universe now. The open sky, the dry…