“the holy monkeys and the colourful birds” by Julia on the bus to Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng

Tuesday January 30, 2018
8:39am
5 minutes
You
Anna Margolin

In the morning before we said goodbye to Ann, the tiny blue bird with the long beak that I had seen in my half sleep from the bus reappeared. It cradled a thin branch near the water with its feet and stopped the world from stepping. I tried to tell you that it was a sign. You couldn’t see the blue and told me it was probably some other bird. It was the same one and I knew by the way it sat. Its stillness was a perfect one. I would know it anywhere. I managed to quiet my heart beat long enough to hear. To sense the strength or the message or the absence of expectation. I heard it like the humming of my Nonna, her voice soothing while she used to mend my favourite sleep shorts. I would know that sound anywhere. I would.

“Like eagle rounding out the morning” by Julia at her desk


Monday May 4, 2015
10:57pm
5 minutes
from a poem by Joy Harjo

Claire has her big day today. She rubs fresh mint on all her pressure points before she leaves the house. No stress, she breathes, no stress today. Claire is wearing the blouse her oldest sister, Amelia, gave to her on her 30th birthday, the black pendant necklace her father rescued from the sewer, her favourite blazer with the three buttons, and the underwear her grandmother used to poke fun at, saying, these ones for special party nights, these ones keep separate from comfy big and bad ones. She had been meditating all morning, humming softly to herself attempting to prepare for the news and the meaning of something this important. She had hunted down the perfect bar for when she receives the news she was hoping for, but also the perfect bar in case she is denied the thing that she wants most in this world.