“trying to teach them technology” By Julia in her cabin


Monday February 27, 2017
4:47pm
5 minutes
from a text

my sister turns 32 and the entire family eats
stuffed lobster tail and shrimp
they gather around the table and tell
each other some of the same stories
after hearing some temporary new ones
my siblings make my parents use cell-phones
I am the only one missing
I am the only one on an island
I am the only one in a different time zone
my mother calls me on my birthday 4 days earlier
proud that she finally got the day right
she doesn’t forget my birthday
she just doesn’t know which day it is anymore because
she isn’t forced to look at a calendar all day
she asks what I am planning and I say nothing really
then my father gets on the phone
he asks me what I’m planning and I say I’m going to the island
he asks me if it feels different being 30
when yesterday I was only 29
I tell him sort of because sort of but not more
because my eggs are getting cold
he sighs and says that at the end of the day
it’s all just soup anyway
I laugh because he is so Italian
but he has a point
he says the first bite tastes like soup
and the last bite still tastes like soup

“trying to teach them technology” By Julia in her cabin

“I felt stung” By Julia in her cabin


Sunday February 26, 2017
10:19pm
5 minutes
Dear Sugar Radio

I don’t have any memories of my mother’s father. He died when I was three, lived in Italy, and I only met him a couple times. The first time, they tell me, was when I was 3 months old. I had my ears peirced with gold studs (by my aunt Patricia, who was also travelling to Italy with us), I carried around a rainbow striped bunny that I would later name “Skittles”, and according to my mother, I was a very picky eater during the first couple months of my life. They tell me that he was a big man, feared by many. They tell me all the other grandkids ran away from him because they were intimidated by his size, or his mood, or his silence. They tell me that when he walked by my crib I begged for him to pick me up. They tell me that it was strange for a small thing to reach out to him. They tell me that he lived for taking me out into the fields to pick fresh figs. They tell me he smiled a lot when we were there.

Sixteen years later I went to Italy for the second time. I found his gravestone. I listened to the air between my life and his. I still can’t say I ever knew him. But I missed him then.

“I felt stung” By Julia in her cabin

“your body is not his home.” By Sasha on her couch


Saturday February 25, 2017
9:45pm
5 minutes
milk and honey
Rupi Kaur


I get home and I dump all of my shit on the bed, because who has the energy to put things away after twelve and a half hours of filing and photocopying and scanning and – … well, you get the picture. Next, I change, because I do not know any sane adult who hangs out at home in their work clothes. I go into the kitchen, pour myself a glass of – … Wait, should I not mention booze? Will that be a point against me? I mean, I know that there isn’t really a point system but… you know what I mean? Oh. Okay. Yes. Of course. Water? Sure. Sure…

“your body is not his home.” By Sasha on her couch

“So am I. So Am I.” By Sasha at her kitchen table


Friday February 24, 2017
11:33pm
5 minutes
East of Eden
John Steinbeck


watching this woman
all back muscles and delicacy
all breath in taut places
all grace and elegance
all body
a hiccup
so am i so am i
watching this woman
all strength and intention
all motherhood and wisdom
all risk all insecurity
all body
a sneeze
so am i
so am i
a sob in my throat
i wonder how this
whole sex
generation after
generation comes to
despise their home
watching this woman
moving across a floor
in pink tennis shoes
carving air like cake

“So am I. So Am I.” By Sasha at her kitchen table

“your body is not his home.” By Julia in her cabin


Saturday February 25, 2017
9:03am
5 minutes
milk and honey
-rupi kaur


When I was 7 my mother babysat a boy named Benjamin who was my age, and his two younger brothers. Ben had white blond hair and white blond eyebrows and he swore like a sailor. He had a lot of excess saliva, always pooling at the base of his tongue so when he spoke he shot out spurts or sometimes entire globules of spit. I thought this made him cute. I thought his boyish hair was something to brag about. One day we were playing in my room and Benjamin asked if we could sit in my closet. I didn’t know what he wanted to do but I do know that going into the closet was slightly wrong. It felt bad. I wanted to be bad with Benjamin. We brought Barbies and then sat in there on the floor with the lights on just staring at each other. Ben suggested that we show each other our private parts and I thought, yeah, alright, I don’t see why not.

“your body is not his home.” By Julia in her cabin

“mini-volcanoes” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday February 23, 2017
10:11pm
5 minutes
From the Ocean Village Activity Book

Granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, hardwood, backsplash, and just wait until you see the shower. I know that you were hoping for a little bit more square footage, but I can guarantee you that you aren’t going to find anything better in your price range. Bear in mind that the previous owner lived there for almost thirty five years, so you may notice – … you know what? Nevermind. Let’s just go in.

Here it is! Bear in mind that it needs a paint job, and…

Look. Angela, this is the forty seventh unit I’ve shown to you. You need to, how can I say this, shit or get off the pot?

“mini-volcanoes” by Sasha at her desk

“So am I. So Am I.” By Julia in her cabin


Friday February 24, 2017
11:26pm
5 minutes
East of Eden
John Steinbeck


I’ve always had a hint of melodrama in everything I’ve written. I like extremes. I like metaphors. I tend to forget how little I actually need to say. I tend to over-explain. I tend to use familiar similes and words. I tend to talk about the ocean. I tend to smoke pot with the moon. I tend to rhyme and I tend to cry out every single one of my feelings. I tend to close the door when I brush my teeth. I tend to want to hide after I bare my soul. I tend to bare my soul. I tend to use words like soul.

“So am I. So Am I.” By Julia in her cabin