IF YOU HOLD THE BIRD TOO TIGHTLY, YOU’LL KILL IT.

- a collection of moments where the body and mind, sync.

EYE on the driveway, looking at the stars.

On the driveway, he said “It’s funny to kiss you”, she looked at him and a tear left her eye and took with it its blue colour. The blue ran down her face, thick syrup goo that dripped into a blob on the pavement. Then, with nothing left to keep it there, her eyeball popped out. Stark white and hollow like a ping pong ball it bounced down the driveway and onto the road. He watched on in amazement, waiting for her to respond, to say something, to be horrified. But instead, in the silence of his astonishment there came a rustling from the hollow of her eye. Out pushed a bird, perched on the bridge of her nose it shook dry its wet feathers and flew away.

From her.

From him.

The 24th year is a struggle. They say, and I suppose I say so too.

The clay hardens. Change is no longer slow and easy to ignore. It is abrupt, alarming and can make you late for work.
It happened at a party. I was chatting, standing in the round, laughing. Then, through my wine soaked vision, I saw him kiss another.

I said, ‘My face is caving in’ and those around me looked and quickly caught the falling pieces of my cheek in their palms. It was winter and everyone was covered in wool. My face was the crumbs on their sleeves.

They all peered at me.

“Where do you want me to put your...face?.... Harriet?” one said, holding the largest part of me.

“Maybe you shouldn’t say anything. You look very loose. How are we going to hold you together?”

“Does she need to sit down?”

“Is he still kissing her?” I said.

“Oh, Harriet! Is this what’s going to happen every time? Yes. Just let him go!”

Restless viewing.

It used to only happen occasionally and then it became more frequent. She would lie awake and check her phone and read and put the book down and toss and turn and do this over and over again.
While lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling, two fine rods attached to the end of each eyebrow would move up and down and up and down at a furious pace. The speed created a television snow that hovered over her brow and kept her awake all night long.

September thus far

Cinema evacuation

Football injury

Relocation

West side

A dip in a soup of old people

I heart GPS

1 dread

Borrowed outfit

‘This tastes like nerds’

Going organic

Prams

Babies

Dogs

Frisky Agnes

Online shopping

Walking

The transport saving of a lifetime!

Bushfire Shakespeare

Locked in a foyer

Wardrobe cull

Fugazi

Master do-to list gets done