“My mother told us” by Julia on her couch

Sunday September 30, 2018
9:10pm
5 minutes
Waiting For My Rape
Jessica Anya Blau

she says “just do your best” and no matter why she says it, she always sounds close to (if not battling) tears. I don’t think she likes crying. but it’s in her like she’s made of sand. a billion moving particles loose under her skin, washing. she says “bye” at least three times. she has to be the last one to say it. it’s an italian thing. like goodbye is the saddest most beautiful world they could think of. and her goodbye keeps me calling. I don’t want to be this far away from her. this daughter’s body a river of sand just like her. a milky way. starlight.

“any kind of company” by Julia at her kitchen table


Tuesday July 29, 2014
4:37pm
5 minutes
wikipedia.org

She swept the living room floor for the third time that morning. She somehow kept stepping in sand, which she thought she had fully cleaned the day before. She put on The Dirty Projectors and made sure to press repeat every time Impregnable Question came on. It felt like the perfect song to listen as she was feeling alone, yet didn’t want to fall too far into a problematic state. This was after eating the raw cookie dough from the tube and drawing a sketch of a bat wearing a clown nose. Every time her phone rang, she leapt from her sprawled out on the floor position to see who it could be. Telemarketing usually. The occasional scam rewards program from Cruises R Us. She was desperate for any kind of company. Any kind that would require a conversation, the outpouring of her emotions and her opinions, and perhaps a hug that would last at least six seconds to ensure a proper connection was established.

“The heat is bad, the water’s bad” by Julia on Sullivan’s Island Beach


Sunday April 27, 2014 at Sullivan’s Island Beach
4:12pm
5 minutes
Knocked Up
Henry Lawson


Ellis looked down at her foot encrusted in tiny sand sparkles. She decided then and there that she would stop caring about how fat she looked in her new summer dress and focus solely on her new endeavour: feed decals. Ellis wanted to design a foot stencil that would cover all the toes, and then come down the middle of the foot like a hanging chain. She would make the “non-sandal-sandal” and it would look a lot like a foot bracelet that glimmered in the light. She could hear the skinny girls behind her laughing as she took photos of her elegant looking feet. They might have been laughing about her muffin top—and they might have been laughing about the dog behind her that was burrowing himself into the sand each time one of their boyfriends threw a potato chip into a tiny hole of sand.
Ellis would be famous for her foot decorations. She’d try to sell them at farmer’s markets by wearing an example decal on one foot, and a completely different design on her other.
People don’t care about your muffin top. They’re only worried about their muffin tops.
Ellis could hear the voice of her mother in her head-she also heard her saying, If you hate it so much, you could start exercising or stop eating entire bags of Dorritos for breakfast.
Ellis tilted her feet into the sunlight-she wondered if she’d be able to source local sand particles for her first peel on overlay.
She vowed to ask Uncle Lars as soon as she got home.

“we find out the heart” by Sasha on the porch at Knowlton Lake


Saturday, September 14, 2013
8:04am
5 minutes
Tear it Down (Poem)
Jack Gilbert


We find out the heart is inextricably connected to the shapes painted on the ground
The ones that we etch with pointed toes and dreamscapes of cake batter and mud
We find out the left atrium is filled with salt-water
and the right is bubbly champagne
They balance eachother out
Effervescent illumination of a bit of ache and a chunk of love
The aorta smells of cinnamon and nutmeg and is velvet to the touch
We find out
over time
It happens somewhere around nineteen or twenty
Maybe on a road-trip or while lying naked with a new friend
The pulmonary artery connects directly to the hysterical laughter we can only find when we feel truly safe
We learn
eventually
When we’ve loved and grieved and died and been reborn
The right ventricle holds our heavy secrets
The ones that feel like they are in our toes
Hidden
Locked
Loaded

“NO ADVERTISING NECESSARY” by Sasha at The Common on Bloor


Thursday May 8, 2013 at The Common
12:55pm
5 minutes
The front page of Report on Business
The Globe and Mail
Thursday, May 8, 2013


The day started out better than they’d expected. For one, it had finally stopped raining. It had rained for the past twelve days. Kiki started to wonder if something biblical was going on. “Something biblical is always going on,” said Elizabeth, making an omelette in their new cast iron frying pan. Kiki didn’t get annoyed when Elizabeth said things like this, she actually got a kick out of it. She liked the way Elizabeth was grandiose. She liked the way Elizabeth talked about getting into dog breeding, and opening a cafe, and flying to Belize and finding a real boyfriend. When Kiki had moved into the house, in July, Elizabeth had been in Maine, learning about starfish, just for fun. When she’d gotten back, Kiki had re-arranged the furniture. “Dope!” said Elizabeth, shaking the sand out of her duffle bag, out of the window. “What if that gets into someone’s eye?!” Kiki shrieked. “I’m not worried about it!” Elizabeth laughed. “Do you think you’ll get married?” Elizabeth liked to ask. Kiki wasn’t sure anymore. She was sure of her need for a record player, she was sure about her crush on Darondo, she was sure about the walls needing a good wash.