January 2012
100 posts
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Traci Brimhall - What They Found In the Diving...
The first time I saw my mother, she’d been dead fourteen years and came as a ghost in the mirror, plucking the hair beneath her arms, and humming a bossa nova. She lotioned her chapped heels and padded her bra as if she were alive in the old way. She said I was born with my cord wrapped around my neck like a rosary, and she knew God, the doomed father of her days, wanted us both. ...
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Traci Brimhall - Why He Leaves
Because she has a jungle inside her and two savage rivers. Because the flood season never left her. Her cheeks ache with it. Her lungs are full of summer, that brutal season. The water inside her used to murmur, You are both mortal and immortal. But it’s gone quiet in this new country. When she bathes, he hides the knives and listens at the door. Because she is too good at surrender. Because...
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Rookie Mag: We're Called Survivors Because We're... →
“The fact is, you are not ruined. You are not broken. You are not forbidden to be OK. I actually felt guilty about this, when I realized it was happening to me—I thought there was some rule that meant I would only ever get to be bravely suffering and sort of all right, and that if I were actually happy, it would mean that I had betrayed myself and my experience. But this is not a...
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