“Still later she folded into herself,” by Julia at her desk

Monday January 20, 2020
12:42pm
5 minutes
Peaches
Marion Winik

It was blue Monday (a blue blue Monday). It was raining (not outside). It was a couch calling her name, it was a blanket taking him hostage. It was blue.

Blue like the ice cube sitting on her chest (jagged, sharp). Blue like the jeans warn to shreds without ever being washed (why bother). Why bother?

Try and persuade a block to melt, try and switch the light on to fix. Should we?

….

It was a blue Monday and the rest of it coloured the same (the months, the memories).

It was enough for him to sink back into his shiver (blanket or not, go figure) and even after the warm soup, she still folded into herself (folding, folding).

It was raining (inside, outside, beside). It was blue. It was blue for every single one of them.

“the waiting place” by Sasha on the bus


Tuesday January 6, 2015
1:56pm
5 minutes
from An Incomplete Manifesto For Growth
Bruce Mau


The mountains are back
They never left
But I forgot that
They can’t move
Like we can
They are there come hell or wild fire or high water
They are there through it all
All of it
Can you imagine?
I see them now though
Through the trees
White-tipped and relaxed
Nothing to prove
A January hymn plays
Quietly
Wanting more of me than I want to give
The sun is sinking tired
Soup waits

“you have to take your hat off to the French” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Thursday November 6, 2014
6:57pm
5 minutes
Vedge by Rich Landau and Kate Jacoby

You have to take your hat off to the French. You really do. Those women manage to remain thin as a pussy-willow whilst eating all that butter and cheese! And those men? So fashionable. When I was in Paris for my year abroad in college, I was just struck by the beautiful nature of that entire people! You really have to hand it to them. And so stylish! Sipping their Cafe Au Lait and eating their Crepes! Good grief. If only we took a page out of their book, you know? Here we are, nasty Americans, drinking Coors Lite and eating Big Macs, while the French roll cigarettes and wear capris! I should’ve been born there. I’m really a black sheep here, I always have been. I should go back. Would you like to go?! We could go together! Let’s see if there’s a seat sale! There’s a seat sale! Okay. When are you free? January? Paris in January is probably absolutely breathtaking. I can’t imagine that they get very much snow… More of a dusting, a sprinkling…