Daniella Libero
Bio
I dabble in short story and magic realism ( fantasy). Your reading and encouragement matter.
I have a business name (PhraseFarm Cultivating Words since 2013) and have published under both Danielle O'Donnell and Danielle Rebbechi.
Stories (15)
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Missed Freedom. AI-Generated.
I didn’t see the drone arrive. It was whirring away when I opened the front door, visible over the driveway and capturing the attention of a curious cat. My laconic Lachlan leaned against the door jamb and said, “That package came by the drone.”
By Daniella Libero10 months ago in Fiction
Wrong Side of the River
For days during his last case before the holidays, Beverley Louise Connelly’s husband Michael had said a bullet would have been the best thing for the accused. The case had dragged on and on, ending with a conviction on only one charge. A strong case from the defense saw two of three charges dropped against the Melbourne criminal, Mal Laromo.
By Daniella Libero3 years ago in Fiction
Missed Freedom
I didn’t see the drone arrive. It was whirring away when I opened the front door, visible over the driveway and capturing the attention of a curious cat. My laconic Lachlan leaned against the door jamb and said, “That package came by the drone.”
By Daniella Libero3 years ago in Families
Lesson of the Iguana
Half asleep high on the glittering granite outcrop, the Giant Iguana surveyed its’ territory. An obsessiveness stirred in her. In her two hundred years of life this place had been whittled down from tens of thousands of acres to this 80-acre picnic reserve and forest over which she presided with intent. It was just after first light, and as the sun’s rays rested on this spot for around an hour for most of the warm seasons she could beat the picnickers by a few hours. It was the sunny days in winter that had provided the past encounters she’d had with the occupants of Boclyde and Industria, because in Winter she sometimes needed to sun herself late into the morning. Her favourite spot overlooked the river of moss green water that cut a wide swathe between Boclyde and Industria.
By Daniella Libero3 years ago in Fiction
Rosie's Son. Top Story - August 2022.
Seeing my brother this way is trying to break my heart, but I steel myself rather than fracture. For a moment I imagine jumping into my huge work ute with its steel chassis and taking a comfortable ride away, right away, from this moment.
By Daniella Libero3 years ago in Fiction
No Data Available
Her son and daughter-in-law bought her a Light Healer xi because it could do better at her personal care, but mostly she suspected because it saved them the bother. It was an innovative artefact that allowed them to boast to their friends, a conversational icebreaker at their dinner parties. Everyone they knew was frustrated by a mentally or physically challenged relative; or an aging frail parent; or a maturing maiden aunt. With all the technology available at their homes and in their workspaces, the Light Healer with all its’ whizz- bang and wow- inducing features made perfect sense.
By Daniella Libero4 years ago in Fiction
Power
Until the day I set foot in Miss Salman’s library I had never seen so much reading matter in one place. I had moved to a different school in my hometown, and it had a renovated library funded by bequests from former students. I slid my hand down the gold-stamped leather spine of the Funk and Wagnall’s, and gaped at the thickness of the Oxford dictionary. I gawked at the glossy American magazines. The three ceiling high shelves of enormous size filled with fiction made my heart beat faster with excitement.
By Daniella Libero4 years ago in Fiction
Butterfly
Zara lay, face skyward, on the damp grass. The buzz of bees and the distant hum of traffic seemed to vibrate through her torso. Nearby dogs barked and windows whooshed open. It seemed all the world was on the move except her. She felt the gentlest touch upon her cheek, and another upon her arm. Her eyes swiveled in their sockets veiled by her eyelids: she was a little nervous of bees.
By Daniella Libero4 years ago in Fiction
The Pearl Bond
Marie-Claire slipped into her short black evening dress. Its cunning cut flattered her tall slender figure and showed off her shapely legs. The V-neck of the bodice was enhanced by a pearl and aquamarine cross, attached to a string of pearls, the gift of her maternal Grandmother. She decided to pair the cross with the blue Tahitian pearl studs that once belonged to her father’s Aunt. They were a prized gift on her 18th birthday, a little over 17 years before.
By Daniella Libero4 years ago in Fiction
Bird Rescue
Bird Rescue Lorene Boddington arrived at her friend Sharon’s house around 6.30 pm on that Friday evening in September. She swung her long leg over the back of her Honda 350, stood up straight, and removed her helmet. Her jet-black plaits dropped a further inch down her back brushing her waist, as they were freed from under her helmet. She stripped off her cotton lined leather overalls, revealing black denim cut-offs and a fitted white t-shirt. She exchanged her biking boots for red gladiator sandals, and carrying her gear headed to Sharon’s front door. After she rang the bell for admittance, she dumped her gear in Sharon’s front hall and they headed to the kitchen for a cold beer. Their sleepy seaside hometown didn’t offer more than a pub for nightly entertainment, so on the week between fortnightly paydays their group of friends met at Sharon’s for a cards’ night. The refreshments were ice cold beer and salty peanuts, and if Noel, Sharon’s boyfriend, was feeling generous there might be some mixer cans of Rum and Cola.
By Daniella Libero4 years ago in Fiction
