Fury is a despicable changeling creature birthed from the sulphur swamps of greater New Zealand, currently inhabiting the desolate desert landscapes of Melbourne’s CBD. You can tell them by their webbed fingers and shifting red eyes. To ward them off, you may leave an inverted coat or open iron scissors where you sleep. It is not advised to read their guileful poetry as their words encourage restless sleep.
Dearest [Fury], I’ve been mulling over writing this epistle to you for many weeks – and this is why! My … More
they say that when the moon is ripe the earth bulges in the kitchen the fruit bowl is cool to … More
I am staring, hypnotised by the front loader washing machine the … More
Fury 