Dear Reader, We’ll keep this quick. This week, we explore ways of caring – for loved ones, for music, for you, the reader. Our writers investigate the modern dilemma of “chalance” and caring too much, grapple with loss and the … Read More
“I see an estranged version of myself laughing at dinner, responding to texts, asking questions in conversations. I ask her: How are you acting so normal?”
“Hidden deep within his heart, he knew this was not his home, and that the cabin’s true owner would inevitably come in the summer once the flowers were in full-bloom.”
“My grief ties my tongue. It makes me incapable of much more than sitting on a bench outside my dorm and crying, my hand curled around a mini cupcake. In Persian we say delam tangete. My heart is tight in your absence.”
Hear it this evening, rusted lace fingers and remnants of dirty flame. It has a large mouth, though never eyes on that gaping face. Sings with empty room voices: oil and metal, dustrag fumes, wood polish shallows. … Read More