Pauline Yates Archives - Page 3 of 3

Pumpkin Head

October 19, 2021/by S. Jade Path

by Pauline Yates

I’ve won ‘Best Halloween Display’ two years running, but while hanging decorations, my new neighbour distracts me. He likes my legs. I love his wide smile. Tempted, I suggest a private trick or treat before the judges arrive.

Invitation accepted, he asks what tricks I know. I show him my wax pumpkin heads. “They’re moulded with a machete,” I say as his head drops to the floor. The trick is finding the right shape. His head is perfect. Dunking him in wax, I carve out his wide smile and hang him next to the previous neighbours; a winning hat trick.

Pauline Yates

Queensland writer, Pauline Yates, loves to explore the dark side of humanity through her writing. Her stories appear in multiple publications and anthologies, and she is the winner to the 2020 AHWA short story competition.

Website: paulineyates.com

Dual

August 27, 2021/by S. Jade Path

by Pauline Yates

Why’d you bring me home, Jimmy? Couldn’t hack a third tour of duty? The war ain’t over. You and me, we make the best team. But you’re a coward, ain’t ya, Jimmy? Shit, if it wasn’t for me, you’d be rotting in a body bag.

Is this how you repay me? Drag me into fucking therapy, get drugs to stop our nightmares? I don’t want them to stop. They keep us wired and fired, Jimmy. Wired and fired. Get that into your chicken head.

The war ain’t over, Jimmy. It will never be over. Not while I’m in your head.

Pauline Yates

Queensland writer, Pauline Yates, loves exploring the dark side of humanity through her stories. She has published works with Metaphorosis, Aurealis, Redwood Press, plus others, and is the winner of the 2020 AHWA short story competition. Links: paulineyates.com.

Clean Sheet

July 27, 2021/by S. Jade Path

by Pauline Yates

The Westridge football team walks the streets, searching for victims. The pre-season tradition—players can purge their sexual desires in a one-night fucking frenzy—has resulted in four consecutive premiership wins. No one reports the pack rapes, the deaths. All this town sees is the trophy.

Not me. I have a different purge in mind. From my bedroom window, I aim a rifle at the team. Tommy leads the pack. We’ve shared a kiss, talked about a future. He promised he wouldn’t partake. He lied. They all lied; town expectation their excuse.

My excuse? I hate football. Why complicate things?

Pauline Yates

Australian writer, Pauline Yates, has short stories published with Metaphorosis, Abyss & Apex, Aurealis, Redwood Press plus others. She is the winner of the short story category in the 2020 AHWA Flash Fiction and Short Story Competition. Discover more at paulineyates.com or on Twitter@midnightmuser1.

Dream Job by Pauline Yates

April 29, 2021/by Shawna Rowan

As Charles delves deeper into his role at the remote wheat station, he uncovers the truth behind the high employee turnover and the grim fate that awaits him.

Tag Archive for: Pauline Yates

Pumpkin Head

by Pauline Yates

I’ve won ‘Best Halloween Display’ two years running, but while hanging decorations, my new neighbour distracts me. He likes my legs. I love his wide smile. Tempted, I suggest a private trick or treat before the judges arrive.

Dual

by Pauline Yates

Why’d you bring me home, Jimmy? Couldn’t hack a third tour of duty? The war ain’t over. You and me, we make the best team. But you’re a coward, ain’t ya, Jimmy? Shit, if it wasn’t for me, you’d be rotting in a body bag.

Is this how you repay me? Drag me into fucking therapy, get drugs to stop our nightmares? I don’t want them to stop. They keep us wired and fired, Jimmy. Wired and fired. Get that into your chicken head.

The war ain’t over, Jimmy. It will never be over. Not while I’m in your head.

Clean Sheet

by Pauline Yates

The Westridge football team walks the streets, searching for victims. The pre-season tradition—players can purge their sexual desires in a one-night fucking frenzy—has resulted in four consecutive premiership wins. No one reports the pack rapes, the deaths. All this town sees is the trophy.

Not me. I have a different purge in mind. From my bedroom window, I aim a rifle at the team. Tommy leads the pack. We’ve shared a kiss, talked about a future. He promised he wouldn’t partake. He lied. They all lied; town expectation their excuse.

My excuse? I hate football. Why complicate things?

Dream Job by Pauline Yates

YEAR THREE

YEAR FOUR

YEAR FIVE