This is a female text, composed by folding someone else’s clothes. My mind holds it close, and it grows, tender and slow, while my hands perform innumerable chores. This is a female text, born of guilt and desire, stitched to a soundtrack of nursery rhymes. Doireann Ní Ghríofa: A Ghost in the Throat Äänikirjapalvelun algoritmit […]

He could see the leafless thickets of brush rushing past in the foreground before him, the white-hot horizon melting into the cloudless sky in the background, could feel the thin steel floor vibrating beneath his feet and his shirt billowing in the wind, but standing there leaning out through the door of the train, knowing […]

Ruinous though the situation is, catastrophic even, it is also quite fitting that it’s ended the way it has, because it has always been about the house. Our marriage, our family, our life they only seemed to make proper sense at home. Take us out of it – even on one of the smart holidays […]