Tag Archives: sadness

New publication! Log Jam, now up at The Bohemyth

metro2

I’m so excited to announce that my short story Log Jam has been published by a lovely journal called The Bohemyth. This piece, about the often inexplicable nature of depression, is very dear to me and was in submission for a long time, so I’m deeply thankful it found a home. It would mean the world to me if you read it.

Say Cheese

party

I just need to make it through this party. I just need to make it through this party and then I can cry.

Alright. I can do this. Just fix a smile on my face and no one will ever know. Say cheese! Now hold it. Hoooold it. Damn, the corners are twitching. My cheeks hurt. I probably look like I’m snarling. As though I’m about to eat someone just to get out of here.

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To the woman on the bench

~ a fictional letter-story ~

bench

To the woman on the bench left of the crabapple tree by the fountain, who wears that coat with all the buttons and I think has black hair but might just have really dark brown hair, and who yesterday was looking much sadder than usual —

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Wake Up Call

For this week’s post, here is prose-poem I guest-wrote for Ruby Browne’s blog, about the subconscious ways our emotions find their way out. While you’re there, I highly recommend reading some of Ruby’s writings about mental health. She’s amazing.

Ruby Pipes

"DSC_0087" © Harvy, 2012. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. “DSC_0087” © Harvy, 2012. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

You heard it before you knew what was happening, before you were even fully conscious, opening your eyes to the dark and to the sound. A ghostly sob behind hypnopompic curtains, fuzzing into your dream like an alarm clock. And maybe it was an alarm, in a way. Not the ring-ring-ring kind, but an alarm of another variety. An alert, a Mayday signal from your subconscious, saying wake up and feel this.

You woke after the crying had already started, the pillow wet beneath your cheek. You tried to keep the noise down, so as not to wake him. Because you wanted to be polite in your grief, because you didn’t want him to ask. Because you didn’t know the answer.

But you also needed to get it out. Out of your body as if it were something…

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