Box-Shaped Heart & other stories

Three stories:

Box-Shaped Heart -

"The rain begins again, but softly. Hazing the horizon and drifting in over him. His hair is thick already with salt air so he hardly notices, and all he is aware of is the limits put on him by his short, stabbing breaths and each small step of his feet, kicking up sand. Further today, he’ll go further."

Last summer, between university semesters, Aidan took to the beaches and ran, his daily jogs beginning the moment he reached the remains of the old shipwreck in the sand.

This summer, his mother brought him to the coast to convalesce. It's a different word from a bygone age, and it means "To recover one's health." Which Aidan hopes to do, no matter how much pain his new box-shaped heart has introduced into his life, no matter how much eating minestrone exhausts him, no matter how long it takes him to reach the wreck where he used to begin his runs.

People say he should be glad just to be alive, but he's not. He wants more than to be alive. He wants to be alive. He wants to eat pizza and drink dubious wine with his friends. He wants Kimberley, and he wants to be better.

Christmas Inside -

"When the night is quiet, you are visited by lions.

You are sure of this because they give you babies, sure of it because they are there swinging disconsolately in your lion nets until, foolishly and still half-asleep, you let them go, and tuck the nets away. And the room in the morning is small and pale blue and quiet as all the others when the sun comes in, when you hear the clatter of breakfast trollies, when the first nurse visits to ask about the night."

Of course you don't know where they've come from. Neither do the doctors--ever trying to be helpful--or the nurses--ever trying to be cheerful--or the students--ever trying to be hopeful. Neither do the zoological societies or the editors of the nature magazines to whom you always write, and from whom you never receive response.

But there must be lions.

It's the only explanation.

You're sure of it.

And the holidays bring more mirth and cheer, more doctors' smiles and students' wiles, and the surest sign yet that there must be lions.

Dog One, Dog Two

“You are unsure of all of this, but maybe that’s just you.”

You started with marmosets before you moved on to dogs, but maybe all the laboratory testing and medical experimentation is getting the better of you. Between your boss and his flatulence and the wide-gazing eyes of the mammals under your supervision--you couldn’t really call it your care, after all, or should you--is there any way to maintain your sanity?

Probably not.


“[Earls’] fiction is renowned for its warm, readable stories populated by flawed yet appealing young men . . . a deft and subtle exploration of human feelings.” -The Australian

“What all of these tales have in common is masterfully crafted prose, dry but sympathetic observation, and an engrossing allusion to a larger, unseen world.” -The Sydney Morning Herald