Boxes

(This is the first short story I have written and been proud of. In fact, it’s probably the first short story I’ve ever written – I can rarely find an ending. I must thank Jhumpa Lahiri for releasing something in me that made this possible.) She brought her vegetables home in boxes. She hadn’t always,…

I carry a love with me

I carry a love with me that has no recourse to memory. It stays, unswayed by bitterness, jealousies, or those irrationally irritating familiarities. It is a feeling, heavy yet unsettled, comforting in its discomfort, permeating the air of where we both grew up reminding me ‘I have loved.’ I carry a love with me that…

To my highschool sweetheart

and what is it? this ignored and unnoticed thing that I do and will do again gently tapping myself apart pulling, grasping at either heart. if I were me at least, the one I want to be I’d be all you thought I was. Though I would not be perfect I’d be some endless sense…

Eternal Sunshine

She sees him in features of people on the street. The height of one, the slightly flattened nose of another. The curious whorl of dark hair, a certain sinuous quality of the forearms. The same pair of shoes. Occasionally (too often) he visits her in dreams. Her subconscious ripping open old wounds, leaving them only…

The Party

As soon as they enter the party the game changes. They’re a stranger, but suddenly despite the dim interior, the bright fairy-light exterior, despite the music blasting speech away from mouths and ears, despite the throng of people, despite the colours, despite the promise of another drink – the eye is drawn to them. The…

Myriad Ways to Waste a Night

There are myriad ways to waste a night. One can read, Or take a bath Or write whatever focus will allow. One can sit in the comfort of some screen, And let others entertain, Like throwing money at your eyes. One can reminisce Read dreams And notes And photographs, Talk to old friends Lament how…

The bodies of grownups

“The bodies of grownups come with stretchmarks and scars, faces that have been lived in, relaxed breasts and bellies, backs that give trouble, and well-worn feet: flesh that is particular, and obviously mortal. They also come with bruises on their heart, wounds they can’t forget, and each of them a company of lovers in their…

Fears of My Life

Inspired by ‘Fears of Your Life’ by Michael Bernard-Loggins Fear of flying. Fear of the plane shaking, violently lurching up and down and plunging. Fear of that roller-coaster-stomach-feeling. Fear of the plane being buffeted sideways. Fear of the wind being too powerful when the plane banks, causing its wings to bank further than 35º and…