I still wander through the tall grasses stretching away from the back of our house down a shallow slope to a thicket of trees just in front of the train station. Yellow flowers scattered among the shimmering green waves smile at the sky, unknowing. It is their sturdiness of bliss I like most, and I… Continue reading Porajmos
He had to be there at 8:00 sharp. If he came too early, the old man wouldn't even get started. If he got there too late, they would do a little, but the old man wouldn't really get going before visiting hours were over. There was just something about the old man's mind that demanded… Continue reading Code
After the hot soup kettle had been scrubbed and set to dry in a wooden sink, after the dirt floor had been groomed with the tracings of a broom, after the last embers in the stone hearth had been shut behind clanky iron doors, after her mother kissed her forehead softly and shooed her to… Continue reading Miriam
We lived on Market Street. We lived among the remains of society who slept in its doorways and covered the sidewalks nightly with pools of misery smothered in silence. We were one of them.
Over the weekend, I decided to do a read of Miri Elm's "Nobody Gets" because I just had to. It is such a great piece of flash fiction that begged to be read. I actually got choked up while recording it. It has been a long time since somebody's writing has moved me like that.… Continue reading Adventures in Audio Recording: Nobody Gets