“We talk all about our relationship” by Julia in her bed


Sunday November 6, 2016
11:28pm
5 minutes
Dear Sugar Radio

It’s been sixteen weeks since I’ve seen you. Sixteen weeks since we’ve talked. You told me not to be surprised if you one day couldn’t stand talking to me and now that day is here. I can’t say I was surprised or not. You’re not here. I’m grieving. I don’t have time for surprise.
I wish I hadn’t made you hate me to the point of I told you so. Sixteen weeks when the longest stretch before that was sixteen hours. I don’t know what days mean anymore. I don’t know what minutes are. I’m dying for you to forgive yourself for loving me so you can come back and get the real loving you expected.

“We talk all about our relationship” by Sasha at her desk


Sunday November 6, 2016
8:50pm
5 minutes
Dear Sugar Radio

We talk all about our relationship until our tongues are heavy
and our hearts are downward dogging stretching
tailbones to the stars
You notice the curl of a lip too quick
the taste of salt on a throat kept tight tight
Fireflies lead us outside and we follow them
into the forest where the dreams of six months from now
call us quietly
by our names
We strip off our clothes and it’s cold but
we don’t mind
I don’t mind
We jump into the water and it’s so cold it’s hot
Takes breath like you do like I do
Takes courage
this
this
Early nights in the fall as the temperature drops

“it was really a labour of love” by Julia at Studio 1965


Saturday November 5, 2016
2:55pm
5 minutes
An interview in Room magazine with Deni Loubert

We can hear the church bells from our house. Only one church in the town so I know I’m not wrong. Maury likes to tell me, when we hear them ringing– I hear wedding bells!–and t reminds me of my grade five teacher, Mrs. Ritter who used to tease our class that we were all going to marry each other any time she saw any of us whispering in the corner.

It’s been 6 years since Talia left. She didn’t say goodbye, she just let her empty bedroom do the talking- we both knew, Maury and I, that this town was too small for her but we didn’t think she’d ever forget to tell us that she’d write. Maury thinks that was her way of saying we smothered her, but the way he looks down his nose at me makes it clear he thinks that it’s my fault she’s gone; like I’m the one who put the ‘S’ in that word.