If you want to write creative non-fiction, please read Kathleen Jamie. Why? Because she’s a poet. Forget daffodils. […]
CNF
Recognition: the known way the sky opens as you drive up and over the level crossing, that awkward […]
The boy stood at the fence line watching Valdez stack wood. The ranch hand was burning the horse. […]
His wife died unexpectedly. She dropped dead in the shower. He found her. She hardly drank, never smoked, […]
In leafy, liberal Providence – capital of Rhode Island, America’s smallest state – the talk at dinner is […]
Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy, we wrote, on the squares in our maths books, […]
With its massive lion-claw feet and its huge bulk covered in worn brown leather, my mother’s old chair […]
And I walk with abandonment, want to walk it off. Needing to distract myself. I anaesthetise myself with my child. I feed her. I change her. I play with her. I comfort her in the night. This night is different. She’s not here. I can’t anaesthetise myself from life. I can’t distract myself. I think – mental pain suffuses me. I take pictures – this distracts me. And maybe it’s true of everyone. We distract ourselves not to feel.
Today’s date had been circled on my calendar for weeks. It would be my first solo drive, […]
After I dropped out of my PhD, I took the first job I was offered, because I needed […]