“Higher!” By Julia at the desk

Monday April 27, 2020
12:08pm
5 minutes
Higher Higher
Leslie Patticelli

I am sitting on Summer’s stoop
plucking away at the pink toy ukulele
and I am smiling cause I’m blocked
by the big beautiful tree I wanted
to believe was a cherry blossom
I am humming away and the bottlers
and the baggers and the lookers and
the passersby go about their going

A hummingbird is right in front of
my face and she is singing harmony
with me for an instant I am reset
to a vibration I long knew from my
first mother’s womb

I am proud flesh born or a woman
graced with some kind of wing, trilling
her and I both, all three, all of us

I am staring into the sun setting
with acceptance for this god given
glow and I am perked up filiform
tuned to the same channel as the light

I am hello to Jamie the bottler who
introduces himself to me
I play him an f and he goes on bottling

I am pointing out the lime green
just above the sun’s upper cheek

“Thanks to electricity” by Sasha in her living room

Wednesday January 22, 2020
10:16am
5 minutes
World At Dawn
Diane Ackerman

Anna could move things with her mind. I didn’t believe it until I saw her do it. We were on the screened in porch. It was August. Hot into the night, we were all in bathing suits and shorts, skin sticking to the wicker chairs, wicker tattooing shapes onto the back of our thighs. It was Mary, Anna, Elizabeth, Elizabeth’s mother, Anita, Anita’s girlfriend, Frankie, and I. It was a third year we’d all gone up to the lake, but the first that Frankie was there. Anita and Frankie were together the year before, but it was too soon for her to come. Anna had told us years earlier about her “special powers” but we’d all scoffed and poked her ribs, and told her to stop being an idiot. “I could move that popsicle stick just with my thoughts,” Anna said, having just finished her creamsicle. Mary and I exchanged sceptical looks. Frankie said, “Please do!” And took a swig of her rum and Diet Coke.

“clearly in the context of the show” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Monday November 3, 2014
11:26pm
5 minutes
from an e-mail

He’s there. He’s there. I run up the stairs of the porch and I remember that my Mom has writing group tonight, she’s across the city in High Park. Shit shit shit shit shit. I get my key into the lock and I slam the door and he’s there, on the porch. Heart pounding, tears real, breath high. I call the police. “Um, hi, I just, I just was followed and the man came onto the porch and I’m not sure what to do because I’m home alone and…” This man is going to kill me. I know you’re there. I see you. Two officers come, ring the doorbell. I creep towards the door, wiping tears. “You called?” They circle the house with flashlight and report back that they didn’t find anyone. No one’s there. I say “thank you”. No one’s there.