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I Lost My Friend in Italy
You may think I was in love with her. You would be right. But not in the way you think. She was one of my best friends. We met in year 7 at school, but didn’t become close till after school had ended. We were linked in a way I wasn’t with anyone else. We…
Blackface Ghost Town
The events depicted below are based on real experiences I had in Australia from 2020 to 2022. The names of people and places have been removed. Not to protect them, but rather to accommodate the handful of names that have relentlessly built and pushed forward the same issues I am about to address. Think of…
Waiting for a Man-God in a Volcano
Mount Yasur erupted up from the ashy ground, an understated but formidable entity. Plumes of volcanic smoke crowded the top of the mountain, hinting at an active crater below. The air was electric with anticipation as swathes of tourists waited eagerly at the crown. They were ready to gawp at the pyrotechnical displays from Yasur…
In the Land of the Mind Virus
Sunshine envelops my body as I leave the coffee shop, hands gripped around a pair of takeaway lattes. It’s a sunny day in Lockport, a town of stone and concrete. The streets radiate and amplify the sun’s rays, turning them into heat. It’s spring in upstate New York, and this warmth still feels like an…
I Cockblocked a Kickboxer in Tokyo
3:32am I am barely five feet tall. He is a professional kickboxer, stocky and red, and a breath away from my face. His furious words land on me as spit droplets. His finger wags, like he knows everything in the world, and I know nothing. He calls me a little girl. “Don’t point at me,”…
Oceans of Memory
She sits hunched on the edge of a garden bed on Cavill Avenue, carry-on suitcase beside her, head in her hands. The scenery is picturesque: perfectly preened garden, spotless blue sky, sun blazing, the sound of seabirds constant but soothing – at least to any other listener. Inside her head, a storm rages. It wasn’t…

Astray is a storytelling project centred on travel, place, culture and identity.

We’re run by a team of writers who mostly live, work and play in nipaluna / Hobart. With reverence, we acknowledge the Tasmanian Aboriginal people as the traditional and ongoing custodians of trouwunna / lutruwita / Tasmania: land that was stolen and never ceded. We pay our respects to Elders past, present and emerging.