
Gore-core
It’s Monday morning, the last week of year eight, and Mum has dropped me off early before work. The time is 7:30am. There aren’t many kids around yet but as I cross the oval, I see Jack, hunched over his…

It’s Monday morning, the last week of year eight, and Mum has dropped me off early before work. The time is 7:30am. There aren’t many kids around yet but as I cross the oval, I see Jack, hunched over his…

By Riley Bampton The courtyard is plain, four metres long by three metres wide, and paved with red brick tiles. Grass would be too hard to upkeep, and the real estate prefers an easy turnover. Annoyingly, weeds sprout through cracks…

By Riley Bampton The University of Queensland’s literary and creative journal, Jacaranda, recently launched its newest edition. Scorched Earth is Jacaranda’s 12.1 edition of the print journal and is just as blazing as its title. We at Glass were lucky…

The morning my grandparents took us swimming was the same morning my father cried. I skipped across rust coloured dirt towards the caravan park pool. The ground was hot, and I’d forgotten my thongs at the cabin. I had to…

With over 80% of the vote counted and only five seats remaining in doubt, here is Glass Magazine’s recap of the 2025 Federal Election results. The 2025 Australian federal election has brought a significant shift in the nation’s political landscape,…

“He must be shit at sex” On a routine trip to the local sex shop to purchase a penis pump as a 21st birthday present, I ran into an acquaintance and his girlfriend perusing the couple’s toys. Naturally, we gave…

Edmund turned to look at his wife still asleep and the ominous lump at the foot of their bed. He felt himself above all this madness, a world away from the suffering of others, as he usually was. Able to…

An absence of eyes stared back at me. I looked down to study the goat’s burr embedded in my knee before returning to gaze at a complexion twisted with pain. The bugs had long left this hollowed cadaver, emptying the…

by Riley Bampton ‘Razor Carving this same face Out of soap, each morning Slightly less perfectly.’ Razor, from the anthology This Goes With That, was the first of Peter Goldsworthy’s poems Iever read. I picked up a copy of the…