I chew the collars of my shirts until they’re ragged as my fingernails. This drives my mother crazier than when I used to chew my hair, which tasted like peppermint despite the fact that I did not use peppermint shampoo.
“Bobby, it’s me. We hear that you… ran into some difficulty yesterday.” A bit of an understatement, considering he collapsed on the trail and was carried out by a rescue team, but it’s what comes from my mouth.
Here is a town that has learned from its history; a town that does not fight the mountain, does not fight the river. The mine shaft opens its mouth. Holds two bodies in its teeth until they are wet and blue and soft. Come back.
We’re in the forest looking for acorn shells, because they make good bathtubs for the fairies. I have only one daughter, and she thinks a pinecone would be a good hiding place – fairies like to play hide-and-seek.
I know as well as anyone the ridiculous, bread and circuses fascination America has with sports but sometimes I just get sucked into its narrative, just like people do with afternoon soaps, teenage vampires, or reality “talent” shows.
The ball of string fits reassuringly in my hand, smaller than a softball but just bigger than a baseball. Its perfect sphericity seems impossible against my palm, testament to the care and diligence with which it was wound.
A few Christmases ago, my husband (then fiancé) gave me a Kindle. I’m an avid reader, and, at the time, my small apartment was practically over run with books (I even had a bookshelf in my kitchen). He thought that I would love a portable library. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Even though I now have…
Caimi suffered from awful stomachaches from as far back as she could remember, and she believed her adolescent anxiety caused them to intensify. But the occasional pain didn’t stop her from overeating.
The small kitchen was packed with unfamiliar people and seventies decor. I’d made friends with one person, though, a younger guy who’d asked me for one of my cigarettes because he only had Camels but loved my brand.
[This blog post originally appeared on the HippoCamp 2016 conference website; we’re cross-posting it here.] Like magic, our ticketing system went live, today, at 12 a.m. Before we could even get out our newsletter–heck, before we even woke up this morning–people have been jumping on to the conference website to register for HippoCamp 2016! We’re…