Losing her house wasn’t the end of the world, she tried reminding herself. It was a silly phrase. Losing.

She hadn’t lost it at all, it was right there where the developer would be bulldozing it into a thousand tiny matchsticks.

Produced by Postie, photo by Nate Biddle (@nateb.visuals)

The Keeper of Lost and Found Things held secrets and heartbreaks. Poems and journals. There were collections of dummies, books lost in the rain, their pages dry but forever resting in waves of words. School jumpers, and the occasional esky. Produced by Postie, photo by Connor McManus (@tarnishedpixels ) at Pexels.

He was from the generation where you didn’t speak of loss, or grief. He was from a bygone era, and some days he felt the distance more than others. His friends are the same. A clap on the shoulder is the only acknowledgement he needs, just to keep going. Produced by Postie. Photo by Matej at Pexels.

On the day before a long weekend, the last day of school before the holidays, the blues skies held the promise of fevered anticipation. You see, there was a plan afoot. There was someone in the village who had been waiting, and watching for years. Produced by Postie, voiced by Jacq and Greg. Photo by Elijah O'Donnell

The electricity cut out without warning and a scream left his mouth involuntarily as he raced to find card for the meter.

Produced by our award winning sound designer Postie, voiced by Jason and Kadi. Photo by Edyttka Stawiarska.

She had the dream, the dream they all did. The difference was, that she had the means to make that dream come true. She could just pack up and leave.

Produced by Postie.

He just wanted some peace at work. It was crowded with people seeking advancement, constant agenda driven behaviour, courtesy-less teamwork and it was exhausting. Just once, he'd liked to be the one people listened to. It was time to escape. Produced by Postie, photo by Feyza (@asumaani) and inspiration from Will & Steph (@picniccafehobart)

Sneaking past the blue bike in the laundry was the hardest. Everything was crammed in so tight it was hard to manoeuvre. Produced by Postie, photo by Leandro Boogalu.

It smelt of dust, stale air and old memories. The sun light filtered through the window as the motes flew around the room in the wake of his footsteps. Once it was empty, a room of promises; a study, a nursery, a sewing room, guestroom and now... Storage. Produced by Postie, photo by Pexels.

Mr MacGregor saw the unfolding of the Big Bank Robbery as he shuffled down the street. It was another hot day, the ground baked and the air dripped, and his town clothes were now coated in a fine layer of dust from the roadside. Produced by Postie, image by Ray Marsh from Pixabay