The newest addition to the divine Long Story Shorts – and one that will neatly complete the S-H-O-R collection on your bookshelf with the T on its spine – is another example of Australia’s knockout talent when it comes to short stories. Leah Swann’s involving tales are perfect little parcels of humanity: there is family, both new and old, there is life and death, pain and love, happiness – and such wrenching heartbreak I had to put the book down for a moment to hook myself back to reality.

Behind another stylish Dean Gorissen cover for the series (and of course you should not judge books by their covers, but I shamelessly do) there are seven short stories and the novella ‘Silver Hands’, sitting neatly in the middle. In the novella, Rachel is struck by the loss of both her husband and the movement in her arms, which, as a sculptor and a mother, she sees as her entire world. Within in her past lies the origin of both problems, and it needs to be confronted to help her; in the meantime you feel Rachel as close to you as a friend.

The collection is sometimes dark, but remains full of hope, and the saddest stories are still touched with quirks: a dash of humour, the addition of an unexpected animal, or something as beautifully simple and evocative as the texture and taste of marmalade. Australia itself is as much a character as anyone else – all trees and dirt, drought and creeks, fairy penguins and the Belgrave/Lilydale train line. Leah Swann makes every tale as realistic as a memory: I would re-read ‘The Singles Club’ for its thrill of warm weather and new love, or ‘Slow to Learn’ for a stretch into the past. One little girl is called ‘clear as a diamond’ and, ultimately, Swann’s writing is exactly that.

Fiona Hardy is from Readings Carlton.