Nate, Hate, and the Illusory Transformative Nature of Glass
Laura Cody ~ 4 min read ~ The first day I met Nate, he told me he was going to kill his dealer. I took it with a grain of salt. I’d been adrift for a while, floating between rock-bottom and moderate dysfunctionality after an epic bender had landed me back in Al-Anon. At forty-two days into recovery, I was keeping distance from my old friends who hung out with my old enemy, the bottle. In fact, the whole reason I was even in Miss Pamela’s Stained Glass Workshop that day was because my counselor said I needed new hobbies and new faces. (That Miss Pamela must’ve offered hefty kickbacks to every…
Becoming Nothing
Day 53, November 1st Reykjavik, Iceland An explosion of greens, reds and purples prismed through the darkened windows bathing the small office in a cocoon of soft, disconcerting light. It was a spectacular demonstration of the sun’s power, but Lilja payed it no mind. She had seen it all before, every day and night since the beginning. Instead, sitting on the edge of her office chair, she stared at a clump of long grey strands of hair in the palm of her hand, the roots weeping with droplets of bright red blood. Voices reached her through the locked door. Scared voices. “I’m telling you she’s sick, she’s changing.” “She’s just depressed.”…
After Summer comes the fall
Day Zero, September 9 Utqiagvik, Alaska In the dream, the sun shone brightly and the day was cold. Rosemary walked the tundra alone on her way into town. She was nowhere near town. There was noise in the distance, but she resisted the intrusion and focused on her walk. Her boots trudged through haphazard lanes between proud pines that refused to lean under the weight of snow. She was in a place that she had never been before, but everything was familiar. She was on her way to town for – “The grocer’s shipment,” Philip said, suddenly walking beside her. “Yes.” Rosemary gave a nod of confirmation, her purpose suddenly…
