What would’ve happened if we’d never met – only shared a glance and a smile across a packed auditorium, the fresh lacquer smell of the stage mingling with stale cigarette ...
Without our secrets, we did not have a body. Without our secrets, we did not need a body.
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Back home, in my mother’s garden in an equatorial country, there is one small deciduous tree planted alone in front of the porch. Its large almond shaped leaves look chewable, and its ...
‘I’m afraid there’s been another incident with your father.’ David remains motionless, hoping the information, like a wasp at a picnic, will bother someone else. Following the previous complaint, he ...
After leaving my lover by way of a kind but firm email, I cried for several hours. On receiving his sad but kind reply, I cried some more. Then I ...
One of the facsimiles was in need of a new top. This of course brought me into communion with the Internet. In doing this, I was immediately reminded of the ...
So dear Paloma, I know my voice messages can ramble but I need to talk. About our daughter. Maybe you’ve noticed on your weekends – she’s blooming, right? It’s amazing: ...
Our topiarist is known for collecting broken umbrellas. Her house is full of blank-paged books. Pruning shears. Frames without pictures. Every fork is bent & she likes it that way. ...
It’s all I can do to hold on, much less keep my heels from hitting the spokes, sending us hurtling toward an inglorious end. Potholes lurk, land mines ready to ...
Us? We are dry bread in the mouth, rough on the tongue. Our imperfect faces are hidden away behind soot-stained xanbirs of wooly cloth that used to be white as ...
Living with loss.
About Melanie ...
Edgar Degas. Study of a Ballet Dancer, ca. 1873. Collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“Us, them, none of it matters. What matters is that you express yourselves, that you ...
She grows up with apple pie and apple crumble and apple snow and cousins who threaten to lock her in the coolroom. She grows up with a father who sneers ...
Tragedy and loss.
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A brother reveals his secret.
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A connection between strangers.
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Grief and ruminating on what could have been said.
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Adrien Majewski. Effluvia from a Hand Resting on a Photographic Plate, 1898–99. Collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
There’s a wrinkle in his hand that looks like the ...
Photo by Jo Sau.
The one time a man asks for her knickers, he says panties. This is no American either. This is a man from Sunderland who, when he speaks, ...
A strangely resonant story of teenage love, betrayal and friendship in the time of the Cold War.
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