“The King of Concupiscence” by Stephen Ross

Hedgepig believed in himself; belief without question, utter faith . . .

“New Year’s Eve” by Jeremy Bioletti

I hadn’t been out for a while. There were four of us. Bill was the president of a motorcycle gang. His friend Rangi was a big maori guy. They had been in prison together . . .

“Burnt Ground” by Thomas Mitchell

—Why’d you come? she said.
—The boys were busy, I guess.

I looked around. Her Nana’s house was just how I remembered: another old villa that desperately needed a coat of paint. I tried not to look at her. I could remember how good Tala looked, dressed and undressed . . .