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Extracts

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Prometheus High 1: How to Make a Monster

Lightning flashed, and Athena Strange began counting.

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This is the Night They Come For You

It is the middle of a hot and clammy afternoon at Police Headquarters in Algiers.

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Elizabeth Finch

She stood before us, without notes, books or nerves. The lectern was occupied by her handbag.

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Lessons in Chemistry

The thirty-year-old mother of Madeline Zott rose before dawn every morning and felt certain of just one thing: her life was over.

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The Mallee Girl

Pippa Black stared out the kitchen window at the dusty sun-beaten paddocks beyond.

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Mothertongues

Christmas Eve. I’m sitting in Cafe Flore in San Francisco.

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Till Death, or a Little Light Maiming, Do Us Part

Why is it that just when you think you have all the answers, life starts asking all the wrong questions?

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Why Has Nobody Told Me This Before?

I’m sitting in my therapy room across from a young woman.

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Glucose Revolution

What was the last thing you ate?

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The Match

At the age of somewhere between forty and forty-two — he didn’t know exactly how old he was — Wilde finally found his father.

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Reckoning

For us the voyage was a marvel. We were seeing the world: the Rock of Gibraltar, the Suez Canal, elephants in the main street of Colombo.

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Everyone in my Family has Killed Someone

Everyone in my family has killed someone. Some of us, the high achievers, have killed more than once.

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The PM's Daughter

This is a story about me.

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Brotherband 9: The Stern Chase

Hal smiled to himself as the Heron cut smoothly through the water, rising and falling gracefully; swooping over the small, even waves and sending showers of spray high into the air on either side of her bows as she sliced down into the troughs.

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Dear Greta

I’m going to call you Greta because this whole ‘write to your hero’ project that Mrs Malouf, our school librarian, has given us feels like something kids would have done in the olden days

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Skin Deep

‘Hello, Vogue! ¡Buenos días! This is Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and I am here to walk you through my skincare and red lip routine.’

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Breathless

In a cramped hotel room high above the prayer-flag-strewn streets of Thamel, the main tourist district of Kathmandu, Nepal, Cecily snapped her laptop shut.

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Diagnosis Normal

When I first got a job as a journalist, the man who’d abused me for what felt like an aeon rang to exchange pleasantries, ask about my new career, and casually slip in a threat.

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