Stripes   

For a while the landlady kept a zebra in the kitchen and this zebra was always there when we came down for breakfast, most often standing with its rump to the fire, no doubt dreaming of the lost lands of the savannah and though none of the neighbours believed in the zebra, saying it was an optical illusion, that all changed when bald patches appeared in their lawns, the trampled grass flecked with zebra spittle. It was unnerving to know there was a zebra out there the neighbours said, pulling their dressing gowns tighter around their waists. Ah, so, said the landlady, we must embrace the changing order, an order I might add that has nothing to do with the fires.  At that some neighbours crouched, to inspect the ground for hoof prints. Others turned their thoughts to the striped pyjamas they’d seen on sale at the mall. The sun rose, hotter than ever.

Frankie McMillan

Frankie McMillan is a poet and short fiction writer. In 2016 her collection, My Mother and the Hungarians and other small fictions(Canterbury University Press) was long-listed for the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards. In 2019  The Father of Octopus Wrestling and other small fictions ( CUP)  was listed by Spinoff as one of the ten best New Zealand fiction books of 2019. In the same year it was shortlisted for the NZSA Heritage awards.

 In 2013 and 2015 she was the winner of the New Zealand Flash Fiction Day competition. She has won numerous awards and creative writing residencies including the Ursula Bethell residency in Creative Writing at the University of Canterbury (2014) the Michael King writing residency at the University of Auckland  ( 2017) and the NZSA Peter and Dianne Beatson Fellowship (2019). Her latest book, The Wandering Nature of Us Girls ( CUP) was published in 2022.