asking – these five minutes

“The day care lies at the base of an oak tree” by Julia in the fishbowl

By: Julia 01/27/2020

fiction, these five minutesasking, atunement, daily, daughter, feelings, mother, space, unedited, writer

Monday January 27, 2020
2:39pm
5 minutes
Gods at Play
Susanne Antonetta

Darling dear is playing at the base of the oak tree, the sweet light is blooming. I wait for her to tell me something is wrong. I see it in her
walk, the way she deflates every step, hunching. I watch her from the
kitchen window, taking note of her little sighs, her clenched fists, her
opinion growing stronger. Sweet light.

I don’t want to ask her because I want her to know what the sensation
feels like. I don’t want to say the words explicitly. Because maybe I’m
jumping to conclusions. Maybe this is how she inhales this life and it’s
different than what I would expect.

All I can do is hold her in the space I give and open my heart to her so
she knows that if she needs to say something she can. I can ask her how
she is without a qualifier. Without a word with connotation or implication.

She is running her fingertips around the trunk of the tree. She is slowly
circling it, her eyes closed and drawn into the bark.

“It Helps To Ask” by Sasha at her desk

Tuesday July 23, 2019
5:32pm
ECK Wisdom on Inner Guidance
Harold Klemp

It helps to ask those
who have come before
how they did it
Not that we are all the same
or that what worked for her
will work for you
but

in asking something
moves in the gut
in the heart
in the glow
above the crown
something moves that’s
been longing

to move
to extend finger
and toe tips
creak of the back
tightness of the hip
move move
move
move
move dear body

in ways you didn’t think
to be possible or
possible for you

move towards the grace
of the opening

“the woman’s anonymous appearance” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Sunday November 4, 2018
8:21am
5 minutes
Beauty Beheld
Sara Harowitz

The woman appears in what she always knew she’d be wearing in this moment, an outfit she’s thought about more than any other thing in her life, though she’s loathed to admit that, she’d never admit that.

Horowitz calls the woman into his office. She’s ready – cheek’s flushed, breath deep, hands shaking only slightly. Horowitz recently died his hair black and the woman isn’t used to it yet. It looks severe, menacing even.

“How are you, Katrina?” Horowitz doesn’t stand up when she enters, even though he should, and he knows it. He takes her in, toes to scalp. The woman bristles. This isn’t going as she’d planned.

“Thanks for meeting with me, Henry. I appreciate your time.” She sits down in one of the red leather chairs opposite his desk. He leans back.

“What’s up?” He pulls a file from the top drawer and files his left thumb nail.

“I have worked here for three and a half years. I have managed every account you’ve given me to the best of my ability, and received only glowing praise from clients. I know it. You know it.” She uncrosses her legs, feels her feet firmly planted on the floor.

“survive and maybe be heroic.” by Julia on her couch

Sunday September 23, 2018
10:13pm
5 minutes
Loud, Unpleasant Noises
Norbert Ruebsaat

please stop asking me
how my day was
no matter what I do
I am not equipped
to answer in a way
that absolves me
of the truth
if you’re asking
because you want
to know how easy
it is to put a hand
on a hot burner
and wait for the scream
then ask me
if you’re asking
because you want
to know how long
a mirror can stay
clean until it is
bloody from the
face reflected back
then ask me
ask me why the roof
of my mouth is a
pocket of worry
or why the kettle
screaming does not
rouse me from the
closet
ask me if you want
to hear denial dripping
dripping
drip

“The job wasn’t that bad.” By Sasha at her desk

By: Sasha 05/08/201805/14/2018

creative writing, fiction, ongoing writing practice, short fiction, Uncategorized, writing, writing practise, writing projectasking, co worker, colleague, fiction, five minutes, short writes short reads, these five minutes, unedited, work

Tuesday May 8, 2018
8:15pm
5 minutes
Dirty Work
Nancy Matson

The job wasn’t that bad. It was the people. It wasn’t even the people. It was the person. She’d never met anyone like Mel, so angry, so vile, so bitter, so angry, so two-faced, so angry. She’d never met anyone like her.

“You’re a real asset here, Beth,” Mel said back in October.

“Aw, that’s kind of you to say. Thank you.”

“Any chance you’ve got the time to proof my pitch for the Silverstein’s?”

“Uh, I mean, I have an appointment at five thirty, but – …”

“Reschedule?”

“I… I can’t.”

“But I need your help.”

“When is the meeting?”

“Tomorrow morning!” Her voice started to get louder.

“Why are you just asking me – “

“Never mind. I’ll stay up all night. Whatever.”

“I, I’ll… I’ll help you. I just have to leave by five…”

“Whatever.”

“Better questions to ask are” by Julia at the studio

By: Julia 10/18/201710/20/2017

Uncategorizedasking, creative writing, five minutes, love, questions, relationship, self, unedited

Wednesday October 18, 2017
5:11pm
5 minutes
You Can Heal Your Life
Louise Hay

Do you love yourself

Do you love anything

Where were you when you first liked your body

Where were you the second

What’s your favourite Tom Petty song

Do you love yourself

Will you tell me if my breath is bad

Will you hold the door open for someone who has hurt you

Will you notice when to switch the towels

Will you keep my plants alive when I’m gone

Is there a food you miss because of me

Is there a good you hate because of me

Can we get sushi for dinner

Will you rub my feet

Do you love yourself

Do you know what you want

Do you want anything

Have you ever wished I was dead

Have you ever wished she didn’t break your heart

Do you love yourself

Are you happy

Do you love yourself

Are you listening to your arms

Are you good

“Back then baby it didn’t seem so strange” by Julia

By: Julia 08/17/201708/13/2019

Uncategorizedasking, assume, cold, couple, dip, familiar, knowing, lie, poem, poetry, questions, relationship, work, Writing

Wednesday August 16, 2017
10:33pm
5 minutes
Dearly Departed
Shakey Graves

we didn’t use to ask each other anything
shuffled through the corridor with too much heart at stake to risk
we didn’t know what we didn’t know
you thought my favorite colour was blue,might have gotten away with it too if I didn’t walk right on out
it didn’t seem strange when we assumed how each other was feeling
it didn’t seem to bother us too much that all these notebooks were half-filled
now I want to know
I don’t know about you since you don’t know what you don’t know
but I want to ask every question that rolls through mush and makes it out alive
why do you tap your feet like that
why do you forget to book that flight
why do you hate your own eyes so much
why do you lie about how cold your hands get

“I’ll sing til morning” by Julia on Khaleefa’s grandmother’s bed

By: Julia 07/11/201708/13/2019

Uncategorizedalways, asking, daily, dip, forgiving, he says, ignoring, listening, love, she says, write, wrong

Monday July 10, 2017
1:19am
5 minutes
Night, Mother
Marsha Norman

He says
I’ll love you forever
She says
forever doesn’t work for me
He says
I will always want you
She says
Always is a long time
He says
I’ll never leave you
She says
Never say never
She says
You can’t love me like this
He says
I need to
She says
you shouldn’t wait for me
He says
I will
She says
I won’t be able to return it
He says
I don’t need anything from you
She says
Then go
He says
But I love you
She says
I’m asking you
He says
Why won’t you let me hold you
She says
You don’t love me for me
He says
Isn’t this love
She says
haven’t you been listening

“bigger than my hand laid out flat” by Sasha in the TA office at UBC

By: these five minutes 03/28/2017

five, five minute story, five minutes, these five minutes, Uncategorizedasking, five minutes, honesty, love, non fiction, poem, poetry, relationship, short stories, these five minutes, unedited

Monday March 27, 2017
2:12pm
5 minutes
From an assignment

You’ve never asked me about
my appetite
my one night stands
my musical aspirations
my stretch marks
my collection of cards and crystals
my hidden chocolate

I wonder about honesty
and where it’s filmy and where
it’s white
opaque
bigger than my hand land out flat

We’ve started drinking more
and eating more potato
chips and I’m not sure if
these are
good things or bad things

I’ve never asked you about
what you write about in
your morning page journal
your one night stands

“with one hundred hands each” by Julia the VPL

By: these five minutes 03/16/2017

Uncategorizedasking, brave, connection, creative writing, daily, dip, hands, holding, human, Inspiration, moon, needs, one hundred, poem, poetry, project, scars, sun, unedited, words, Writing

Thursday March 16, 2017
6:20pm
5 minutes
Age Of Bronze Betrayal
Eric Shanower

Hold me like the sun is going down for the last time–
like the nights are long
like the mornings are extinct.
Keep me alive under a dead moon–
under a baren sky
under a hurt wing.

With one hundred hands you will know enough
how to close the door without waking me
how to prepare a tea without asking me
how to teach my skin what it’s worth.
With one hundred hands can you memorize my scars–
how the thick one reeks of curiosity,
how the raised one is a reward for the brave?

“Lying flat because my back is killing” by Sasha on her couch

By: these five minutes 10/21/201610/21/2016

creative every day, creative writing, short fiction, short scene, short story, short writes short reads, Uncategorizedasking, asking for help, blog, creativity, five minute story, five minutes, pride, short stories, the art of asking, Writing

Wednesday October 19, 2016
10:11pm
5 minutes
from a text

I’m lying flat because I threw out my back again. As if I need another thing for the guys to mock me about. As if. Doc said, “Lie flat like a board and call your sister.” Ha! Like Julianne could possibly leave Jim for twenty four hours to take care of me! Ha! It was a humbling moment, you know, when Doc said that… Because really, what with Zachariah away at school, I don’t really have anyone to… I mean, who am I gonna call besides Julianne?! I wracked my brain for someone who owed me a favour and, well, I think I’m square with most folks. So… that’s why I’m callin’ you. Would you think about comin’ to look after me for a couple days? I’d take care of the bus fare, and you can get whatever food you want, even that fancy meat stuff you like?

“I can never escape” by Julia on Amanda’s floor

By: these five minutes 01/09/2016

Uncategorizedafraid, asking, core, curious, journals, learning, lessons, map, non fiction, questions, realizations, short reads, short writes, shy, unedited

Thursday, January 7, 2016
1:25am
5 minutes
The Reaper
Dan Fraser

There was a time I wouldn’t have thought to ask questions. I had questions. I had a lot of them. But in my history there was a time where I wasn’t comfortable giving them a voice out of fear that they might betray me; reveal me for the inposter I was, or the shaman, or the child. I couldn’t have anyone knowing what truly went on in my mind–I wasn’t about to give away a map to my soul and all my secret feelings. So I stayed quiet but I wrote them all out thinking no one would ever find them or be able to read them if I wrote messily enough. I couldn’t risk someone using them against me…but I guess I couldn’t hide myself from myself because looking back on those protected journals, all I see is the same curious heart I was then. And I’m still asking those same questions.

“Last night I was like fuck it” by Julia at Bicerin Espresso Bar

Friday, June 5, 2015 at Bicerin
3:26pm
5 minutes
from a text

Oh you want me to start with you? Tell you all the things you could be “working on?” How bout you just fucking man up and look around you for once in your life. Maybe just take two seconds to acknowledge that there are other people in the room, that I’m in the room. did you think to ask how I was doing? Did you think to maybe put aside your own needs for somebody else? Don’t answer those…They’re what we call “rhetorical questions”. They don’t need answers because I KNOW THE ANSWERS. You keep disappointing me. Do you know that that’s what you’re doing? Don’t answer that either.
I told you I didn’t want to start because I knew I would get petty and start naming off all the shit I think you’ve fucked up. I don’t think I’ve even asked you for that much and you still make it feel like I’m begging for the moon. I don’t want the fucking moon, okay, all I want is a little common courtesy. Or..I don’t know, not common. Special courtesy for once would actually be very nice, seeing as though you subscribe to the notion that the other kind is too common to even give to me.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” By Julia on her couch

Saturday January 24, 2015
6:29pm
5 minutes
The Green-ish pilot

Ari told me to ask the Universe for what I wanted in life and make it very specific. She said, “what’s the harm in asking?” And I didn’t have an answer so I told her I didn’t know and that I would try it this weekend. I realized she wanted me to do it in that very moment while she was there so she could share it with me, but I’ve never been very good at asking for help and I didn’t want her to catch me in the middle of my ineptitude. It would shine brightly, stick out like a sore thumb, and remind everyone that I don’t have a clue. So I thought of Ari as I walked home in the most perfect light and Canadian snow, and wondered for the first time if asking was actually easy..Once you strip it bare of its shame and crippling vulnerability…
I remembered once asking my dad if he could lend me $1100.00. Some might argue that asking him or the universe was actually the same thing..

“Feathers and flowers” by Sasha at Nirvana Restaurant

By: these five minutes 01/23/2015

creative writing, fiction, short story, these five minutes, unedited5 minutes, asking, creative writing, dreams, fear, lists, questionairre, short story, short writes short reads, these five minutes, unedited

Friday January 16, 2015 at Nirvana
5:32pm
5 minutes
from a 2015 calendar

Biggest fear? Mediocrity.
Likes? Snapping (although I’m useless at it). Bacon. Fire. Bob Dylan.
Birthday? Nope.
Coffee or tea? Water.
Cigarettes or blow? Pretentious ass.
Shoe size? Nine.
God? Yes! Please!
Bath or shower? Shower.
Train or plane? Bus. (The grimier the better).
Knife or fork? FORK.
Black and white or colour? Colour. Especially green.
Dislikes? Cold. Entitlement. Beer. The Beatles.
Car? Ha.
Breakfast? Toast and jam.

“We finally took the plunge ;)”by Julia at Bagels and Beans

By: these five minutes 11/24/2014

Uncategorizedanswer, asking, creative, dread, five minutes, life, marriage, patience, plunge, proposal, reward, Writing

Wednesday November 19, 2014 at Bagels and Beans
3:56pm
5 minutes
From the Bagels and Beans write up by Ronald Bakker

After pounding back at least one hundred tiny chocolate covered coffee beans, I feel the urge to finally do it–finally just look into his eyes, tell him I’m sorry for making him wait so long but I am sure now, I am excited now, I am positively secure in us now.
He keeps his eyes down on his Japanese style wild salmon and puts calculated bagel bites into his mouth without really looking up at all. I like his eating habits. That was something I could never say before-among a million other things. They don’t bother me anymore. That’s how you know it’s really real. I wanted to do it right then, reward his patience, achieve that perfect moment you spend your whole life constructing.
And he doesn’t respond to my throat clearing, my quirky sighs that signal I’m ready for his attention. I am filled with dread suddenly.

“you’re obliged to keep living” by Sasha at Early Bird Espresso and Brew Bar

By: these five minutes 04/26/2014

Uncategorizedangry, asking, family, fiction, five minutes, hard questions, love, mental health, poem, poetry, short story, sisterhood, suicide attempt, unedited

Thursday April 23, 2014 at Early Bird Espresso and Brew Bar
11:21am
5 minutes
Locked In To Life
Mark Brazaitis

There’s a funny contract we all signed
The day we were born
(Not funny “ha ha”
but the other kind)
We’re obliged to keep living
Having a sister like Colette
Having a sister who is sick
Having a sister who has tried to kill herself
Too many times to count
Makes me think about this
Obligation
She came to me and asked if I would help her
“I don’t want to be here”
She said
The longing in the shaking of her lower lip
The smell of her desire
Fresh
for once
I paused and said
“I’ll have to think about this, Colette”
She didn’t like that answer
She slammed the door on her way out
I got an e-mail from her later that read
“Dear Suzanne,
Thank you for having me for tuna melts today
It made me angry that you wouldn’t help me
But I get it
I get that I’m asking a lot of you
I’ve always asked a lot of you
I love you
Let’s go to the Island the May long weekend”
I thought
“I wonder if you’ll still be here then?”
May is a long way away
Twenty whole days

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