Troy Charles
Bio
-Writer, Poet, Editor and Musician.
-Honours in Creative Writing, a Graduate Certificate in Creative Writing and an Undergraduate degree in Professional Writing and Communications.
-Write songs, short stories, and poetry.
-Perform
-Australian
Stories (5/0)
The Aesthetics of Sisters and a Grandma
All we want is to please you. My sisters and I wait and long for you each day. We squish together and whisper to each other because we are so close to one another. Thankfully, we enjoy each other’s company and stories. The closeness we share is a family trait. Something you have provided for us.
By Troy Charles3 years ago in Fiction
Kent Street
The girl slaps down her lap top. Then she opens it up again and looks complacently at the screen. Her face is dull and covered by a white light projecting from an Apple computer. She is writing an essay on the French Revolution and is having trouble reasoning the age of Enlightenment in the body of text. She has a half an hour left, before work.
By Troy Charles3 years ago in Fiction
Wake Up Sebastian
The op shop is cramped with hanging clothes, silverware, boxes of folded clothing, men’s and women’s underwear, socks, children’s attire and stacks of shabby books. Above the tea cozies there is a continuous shelf sagging from the weight of costume gear which runs along the four walls of the main part of the shop. Two rows of lynching jackets and shirts are in the middle hanging on a rack. They are dangling off bent wire hangers that have been used too many times. The underwear busting out of the boxes, strangely defiant of gravity, is very old, covered in dust and exudes the aroma of moth balls.
By Troy Charles3 years ago in Fiction
Steps Inward and Outward
She was lightly guiding him toward the door. Her hand, transparent and pastel teal, was at his back with a constant flutter of up and down. He looked up at her and was confused. From what he could make out in moving imagery, her face was like a pixie and she had a calmly familiar scent. However, she towered over him and was definitely not from his world. An abstraction of sentience? He thought.
By Troy Charles3 years ago in Fiction
