“‘Gimme a whiskey’” by Sasha at her desk

Sunday June 30, 2019
5:56pm
Fallon
Louis L’amour

Your shoulders square. You wish that you could call someone but your phone is dead. You aren’t sure where your charger is, or if you even have a charger anymore. You’ve been using Liz’s charger. You close your eyes and imagine going to the freezer and putting ice in a glass. You imagine that you remembered to refill the ice tray. You imagine going to the cabinet above the fridge, just enough out of reach, and pulling down the bottle of Maker’s. You imagine pouring half a glass and drinking it. Not fast. Not slow. Not interrupted. Not wrong.

“I look forward to a random day” by Sasha on her couch


Wednesday November 23, 2016
11:19pm
5 minutes
from a Facebook comment

I see a man’s face through the ice looking up
his mouth contorted in salt water scream

I am standing on the thick part but still
wonder about safety and falling through

Many women are gathered here
some men too We all wear blue ribbons

I look forward to the day when this is not
the headline and the currency and the

reason I can’t sleep.

“within 15 days” by Julia on her bed


Thursday, July 9, 2015
11:42pm
5 minutes
A letter from Health Insurance BC

“Or maybe we could rent a van and pack it up tight with all our stupid stuff that we don’t care about and just drive it across the country like we did last time?” She says this, rubbing an ice cube side to side across her collar bone, making him sweat, making him want her even more.
“Yeah, we could, or we could purge all our stupid stuff that we don’t need and just be free and minimal.” He says this with a knowing smirk that she’d never go for something like that.
“You mean minimalistic?” She pops the ice cube into her mouth and lets it melt there for a second.
“I don’t think we need to purge. Maybe get rid of a few things. The waffle iron. We could get rid of the waffle iron, and maybe the second set of measuring cups.”

“If I’m ever lonely” by Julia at her desk


Saturday February 21, 2015
1:01am
5 minutes
mirandajuly.com

If I’m ever lonely, I’ll close my eyes and think of that day in April when I see you again. You’ll be ready to get out of the cold you’re trapped frozen in, and you’ll welcome the melting of all your icicles with thawing extremities. We have done this before. We have stood still in our distant lives and breathed in a time difference for months. Now good morning is still good morning, and good night is still good night, but my here is not your here and your here is not you’re here..
If I’m ever lonely, I’ll write you something sweet on the napkin beside my bed, hum the words to music and turn it into a song I sing inside my head to keep you close. You’ll ask if you can learn the chords that go with it so you can play your version on the other side of where I am.
We have done this before. We have loved from far away for days and days and days.

“Looking at those thin winter trees” by Julia at her kitchen table


Sunday February 23, 2014
8:22pm
5 minutes
Cairo Blues
Leif Vollebekk

I suppose I could have warned Pat about the ice on the roads cause I was fairly certain for a moment that it would have served as the proper amount of warning to dissuade him from coming up here. I could have told him the trees looked thinner than usual and he would’ve known what that meant. He would’ve understand that it wasn’t safe, that it wouldn’t be worth his time. I could have told him all of those things, and yet, knowing him, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’d see right through it. Right through me. Probably because he’d know that if it were too dangerous for him to come to me then it must be too dangerous for me to stay up here alone. I guess that’s what I love most about him. Even when I’m testing him without fully realizing it, he passes. He’s just so good natured he doesn’t really see these things I do as tests in the first place. He just sees them as things.

“only the sound of the wind” by Sasha at her desk


Friday, April 5, 2013
3:14pm
5 minutes
Misery
Stephen King


It was colder than we’d ever thought it would be. It was colder and damper. The kind of cold that sneaks into your insides, your lungs and your marrow. The kind of cold that’s hard to get out. The kind of cold where you cross your fingers for a bathtub, or a fireplace, or a hot radiator to sit by. There was only the sound of the wind. It might’ve been lonely, but we were there together, Papa and me, and there was nothing lonely about that. He’d grown up on this tundra, with this snow. I’d always wondered why he was sad, the sadness heavy in the air around him, coming out of his mouth. It was because he missed the ice, he missed the sky. “You won’t like it here,” he’d said on the phone, so many times. “I will! I will!” I’d said. “You’re there,” I’d thought.

“until it blended” by Julia at her kitchen table


Wednesday, December 5, 2012
11:21pm
5 minutes
The Down to Earth Cookbook
Linda Maull and Nancy Fair Mcintyre


There wasn’t any more ice on the ground today than yesterday, which is why it’s so surprising to recount how Rita slipped, fell, and subsequently broke her left hip. She wasn’t old. You’d think that based on the fact that most hip-related injuries generally accompany the elderly. She was 37, which is young, and she was wearing running shoes with very good traction. The problem ( Ah HA!) is that she was wearing running shoes and not winter boots. Or perhaps it was the banana peel that managed to find its way under her feet (but we all know that that’s just a myth….or a friend of a friend of an urban legend). What was it actually? Everyone was dying to know. She was on her way to buy frozen strawberry chunks to make…well wait, no one knows what Rita was planning to make do they? They should. Someone should know. Anyway, it was surprising that she slipped, fell, and subsequently broke her left hip because of the lack of… What WAS it? What was she going to make? Now surely she would have needed much more than frozen strawberries for jam. Was she going to make jam out of frozen strawberries? That’s ridiculous.