His writing delivers rich, flawed characters. People you could know, everyday types you could have met somewhere in your travels of life. Their dialog unravels personalities as they talk their way through the pages, bringing a fast-paced reading style that lets the reader feel as though they are listening to someone’s conversation. As you turn each page you find mannerisms and personality that defines them and leads the story.
Short Stories
‘Daddy, this will be your second Christmas home from the war,’ Her eyes ever vigilant as another couple of rough miles roll by, the old Bedford lorry hauls little Virginia Livingstone and her father over the unsealed roads back to home near Mareeba. ‘Daddy, do you think little Jim will like our Christmas treats?’ The […]
Short Stories
There’s a Songbird That Sings ‘Look. An old hut.’ 25-year-old Robert knelt behind a eucalypt tree. His arm out protective of Leora his 21-year-old girlfriend. They have been on foot traversing the rugged mountain range since they fled the large mushroom cloud that rose above the capital city. Madness and mayhem, a constant stalker tracking […]
Short Stories
Deep beneath the umbrella of dark leaves that hang from great boughs which illuminate grass and flowers at their root. An earthen path wide enough for three winds idly. One man has a mane of dark hair and an authoritative beard, medium height, bright eyed and confident paces in pleasant conversation. Next to him in […]
Poetry
Blind. I can see what needs to be. My family, their needs. I gather money. It’s not greed. Higher and higher we must fly. You know I will never die. There are those around us who fail. There’s nothing I can do for them; I won’t post bail. Why should my shoulders be burdened with their care? Look around discrimination, and […]
From a troubled teenage boy who finds himself in a coma after a car accident, meeting his dead father before beginning a life-changing journey discovering spirit, dreamtime and meditation when
he awakes, to an Aussie battler couple symbolic of life in the suburbs for the working class of years gone by, dealing with alcoholism, relationships, love and terminal illness.
Life is like a bouquet, beautiful and as colourful as the flowers.
Kyle Anthony
A free mind knows the pleasure of giving, and the humanity of being given too.
Kyle Anthony
Here I stay. The cold bed grips me tight. Her warm fingers never again shall caress my breast. My heart lays naked and frail as I stare at the ceiling blank. How I hate myself, even if I was right.
Kyle Anthony