Soft. Smooth. A secret indulgence.

Sensible - That's how they see her - Practical.

No one would ever imagine that the trips to Sydney to see her brother, always included a visit. Here. A salacious secret.

Produced by Postie, Photo by Anna Tis.

His pride and joy was this garbage truck. Small and compact, he washed her every day after the job, cleaning and scouring just like the manual recommended. Produced by Postie

Everyone else dismissed her out of mind years ago. And because she was gone, holding on to that memory felt like a betrayal. Not quite though. Not enough to still her name in his mind. Not enough to quieten her whisper in the darkest of hours. Not enough that her mocking smile didn't egg him on...

Produced by Postie, photo by pixabay.

As the man grew older, he thought of it more often, hidden away; the nights of delight, the days of decadence and laughter...

When the world held no sorrows, no cares, no worries...

He wanted that again.

Produced by Postie, Photo by Susanne Jutzeler

He sat still by the phone.

Cream, cracked, it came from the old house with him to this tiny apartment.

He'd insisted.

He wanted his own phone, so he could still chat to his mates.

Produced by Postie, voiced by Geoff, Cassie and Andy H, photo by Leah Kelley

They cleared the webs. They hunted fearlessly for the elusive orb weaver... and they speculated, in hushed tones away from the car's owner, about the possibility of an egg sac and multiple little orb weavers adding to the web... infestation...

Produced by Postie, photo by Rick Otten

He liked busking as people made their way to work. A melody or tune to make the morning less daunting. Most were wrapped up in their own world, their own music, marching to the beat of the business drum. He enjoyed the surprise that occasionally graced a face... They didn't expect him at that time.

Produced by Postie, photo by Markus Spiske

It was a very small patch of sunlight that lingered in the cool of the evening. But it had been there a while; the stones flat surface was warm to the touch and just wide enough for her to settle comfortably on...

Produced by Postie, photo by Pixabay.

There is no beauty in death, only absence... He'd read that once, in one of his English novels, and it captured the Business elegantly.

Produced by Postie, photo by Photo by Paweł L.

Rattle on Bones was the dusty, sneezy, packed to the rafters, second-hand, antique, junk shop in Three Corners.

Produced by Postie, photo by Burcu Koleli