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sisters & sparrows

Poetry. Photography. Life.

My poor big brother and his baby Elf are sick today.  I went round to walk Pegs, their dog, and we had a long lovely frosty walk by the river.  She had great fun splashing in the water and eating cowpats and sniffing other dogs’ butts, and I just really enjoyed being out in the fresh air.

I stumbled across Helena Kvarnstrom on loveology.  And not only is she a fantastic photographer, but she writes.  Rather well.  Here’s a chunk from her novella, Violence:

sometime in december i run out of the house with no shoes and it is the first time i have left for a week. i cross ashland and stare at the ground and there is no one to see me, past the laundromat where you buy me gum and rubber bouncy balls while we wait for the bleach to take away that week’s accidents. the laundromat is owned by a very nice hispanic man and it is called soapy’s. that’s where we tell people to turn left to come visit us but no one comes anymore. it’s so quiet at night here and then the freight train goes by and i regret not getting to the tracks sooner just to be close to the sound. you watch tv and imagine my body crushed by boxes carrying lumber, cars, and children’s cold medicine. 

There’s something about that that I just love. 

And I’m listening to talk show host which gives me the shivers.   It is, of course, by Radiohead, one of my all time favourite bands.


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