“It is a highly awkward effort” by Julia on the Brown Line

Sunday September 16, 2018
5:55pm
5 minutes
How to Unthink (In Two Movements)
Jill Boettger

The bedsheets wake up bloody and somebody’s name gets cursed for choosing white. Not my name, I’ll tell you that. The first tears are muted into the pillow at 6AM. The second at seven. The stomach starts talking to me around ten after eight and starts yelling at nine. So far universe: 5, me: 0.

When the deep weakness punches back from the reflection in the mirror I know I am on an up-cliff climb without a rope. The first person to get hit in a street fight is usually the one who loses.

Somehow the angel card that gets flipped up from the pile by no one with fingerprints is
Acceptance.

It wasn’t me, I’ll tell you that. You said it wasn’t you.

Acceptance.

“it was a God that acted through me.” By Sasha on her balcony


Sunday August 27, 2017
12:04pm
5 minutes
Disgrace
J.M. Coetzee


Some days she forgets why she’s trying
why she’s waking and walking and eating and fucking
Some days she only rises to piss and eat a rice cake
over the sink
Some days she lets the phone ring even though she knows
it’s her mother and she misses her mother and she wants
nothing more than to speak to her mother
This is one of those days
This is one of those days
She peels an avocado and bits of green flesh get
on the sheets and shit she didn’t want to make
more of a mess.

“We’ve never found the evidence” by Sasha in her bed


Sunday May 29, 2016
11:05pm
5 minutes
Thunder Head
Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child


Suddenly everyone knows everyone and is better and better winning all the games and awards and goodie bags. We’ve found evidence that you’re an imposter, the small voice in the bottom of your throat growls. We’ve found the evidence.

Doubt is the most powerful pull towards darkness you’ve known.

You wake up, a decade older, and you think once again about being kindly evicted and what if there was a baby and what if neither you nor he had jobs lined up, and the savings won’t last forever no nope no way jose it won’t. Maybe you should’ve been smart and invested in real estate like everyone else. Instead, you invested in stories. HA! There must be a cosmic joke in there somewhere?! Where is it, you ask? Buried beneath the layers of the liars that said, “You can do anything you want!”

“Then the chicken to fry” by Sasha in Pearson International Airport


Saturday, August 15, 2015
6:37pm
5 minutes
Women Work
Maya Angelou


I got a case of the Mondays.
I got a case of the Bad Days.
I got a case of Corona and a spliff from five years ago.
I got a real bad dog show.
I got chicken to fry.
I gotta undo a lie.
I got an itch that can’t be scratched.
I got a case of the Mondays, baby.
I got a case of the Sad Days.
I got a case of old photos.
I got a broken motor.

“Flowers for Mama” by Sasha at Cafe Novo


Wednesday June 5, 2013 at Cafe Novo
3:26pm
5 minutes
from the Public Sketchbook Project at Cafe Novo

She’s having one of those days that begins with a knot in the throat, the memory of the break-up, the break-out, the night before. Then the day floats towards breakfast, on a cloudy patio, alone, sucking egg yolks out of sunny-side-up spots, dipped hashbrowns in hot sauce. Somewhere around two in the afternoon the day veers a bit off course, if it was ever on any course to begin with, and she catches a glimpse of herself in a mirrored glass on Bathurst, north of Bloor. Fuck mirrored glass, fuck having to see yourself at your worst and being forty five minutes from home. She forgot that she was wearing yesterday’s clothes. She forgot that she’d cut her own bangs last night, swigging from the bottle of tequila, finally drawing hearts on her cheeks with her most antique tube of pink lipstick that had belonged to her deceased aunt Dorothy. Luckily, she’d left her phone at home because now, at a few minutes after two, she would absolutely text her lost love and see what he might be up to. She would definitely call her lost love when he didn’t respond, and she would certainly lose all last remaining dignity when she snotted all over the sidewalk and fell to her knees, crying, “have mercy, Benjamin!”