NEWS
If you happened to walk by Federation University's Q2 building at 9am on Tuesday morning, you would have noticed a sorry sight. Hungover people in blue shirts that say 'Unity' lying in the sun, student media desperately searching Google Maps for a nearby cafe and others
By Jacob Wood When the Dark was in control, Lester had little idea of his surroundings; could see nothing but shifting shadows. For brief moments at a time he could hear fevered shuffling, the scraping of harsh blades and a horrid stench that came over him in fetid waves. For
CULTURE
Martinus Dwi Marianto, ‘Looking at Rainbows Through Kluak,’ (55cm x 55cm, direct file transfer on canvas, 2023). According to historian and Indonesianist, Dr Rob Goodfellow (PhD UOW) “Something happens when we are confronted by authentic novelty.” By this, Goodfellow means, “Something so inventive that there are few clear terms of
CULTURE
A Theatre Review by Paige Jenkins and Skyla Yorke. Theatre lovers filled the foyer of UOW’s Jillian Broadbent building on Friday night to watch the first of many shows put on by the University's theatre majors, ‘Juliet and Romeo’, directed by Tim Maddock. The performance, a final
The first string was violet, as many were. A co-worker I rarely spoke to, apart from telling her coffee orders. I refused to be excited because I refused to be brave. Then one day, she knocked three coffees off the machine that she was in the middle of making.
I sit in the empty public bus, my brightness up, my ears submerged in Michael Jackson while delving into an array of Buzzfeed quizzes such as, “What Disney Princess Are You?” (Cinderella) or “Do you remember the entire Twilight series?” (I do). A rich concoction of tunes remains in the
CULTURE
My transformation began with a single wiry hair—long, grey, jagged at the end—sprouting from under my chin where the flesh is doughiest. I’d always uprooted these rogue hairs as soon as they reared their monstrous heads (as a girl I was taught to be meticulous when it
The sky will be here soon. Parts of it have arrived early, embracing the outer neighbourhoods, Where the lawns were quilted in cockatoos. There’s nothing left there anymore. The clouds got here first, though. A few months ago. Stuffy, hot things, Swimming when I walk. Mountains have curled up
CULTURE
Afternoon. It is almost the close of the quiet café– The boy waiting waits for the ticking of time. But the hope that he had for a smidgin of time To himself after work is destroyed– It’s splattered and spluttered Like smashed avocado on Tables And honey on hands.
All morning he twined the coarse rope through his hands. But now he was just trying to ignore the agonising thudding beneath the angry anthill that had formed on his left forearm. It was tipped a violent red and sensitive to any sort of glancing touch. The skin there was
![[ ] - David Allen](https://storage.ghost.io/c/d2/12/d212ced5-d07c-4386-84f3-f68c872d8c74/content/images/size/w600/2025/11/1sd-1.png)
…¶ One,·two,·three¶ Our·mind’s·do·seize¶ Before·that·punctual·decree¶ ¶ Hurriedly·we·fill¶ That·confronting· ¶ Small·marks·of·a·quill¶ A·displacing·defence¶ ¶ Thus·from·our·sight·is·hid¶ Those·looming· s¶ L’appel·du·vide¶ Covered·in·present·sheathings¶ ¶ The·need·for·constant·movement¶ To·prevent·irrevocable·
In the lead up to the winners reveal for our 2023 writing contest, Tertangala is showing some of the work submitted by UOW talent. Our first is a poem from Paige Jenkins. Enjoy! I tiptoe down the green sea od fading blues to yellow as the darkness gives way to