Thank you so much, Kimberly! I wonder how many billions of words are stuck inside these imaginary repositories. Or maybe they’re not that imaginary, who knows.
Silvio, this one left me staring at the wall, a little breathless. That final twist—her imagining the very fate her letter endured—landed like a soft ghost brushing past my arm. I felt like I was the one who got the letter. Maybe we all did.
I have a box in a cupboard full of yellowing letters and faded postcards I cannot throw away. The handwriting of dead relatives is almost too poignant to contemplate although most of these missives were probably composed quite hurriedly, their contents often banal. I have a scrawled note to me as a pre-teen from my grandmother born in 1902 (so she was ten when the Titanic sank). It was torn from a used envelope and it says “Claire, please call round today to collect the gooseberries.” Looking at it freaks me out every time, as though she’s back again in the cottage of tangled ivy at the bottom of our lane. So this notion of voices “muffled and almost suffocated, as if trapped inside the envelopes” is definitely going to give me nightmares. ;-) Brilliant, Silvio!
One of the best, Silvio! I feel like I needed this read this morning, sitting on the bus now on the way to work (having read part of it on the train and then stoppint, letting the words sink in and the idea of the repository float around in my head, as the wonderful "Ritual" by Jon Hopkins floated around my ears). I've felt distracted the last week or so, hence my absence and lack of my own writing.
But reading this is grounding, magical, series.
The closing reply of #8 is just wow. The circular nature.
"Until one day, decades later, mysteriously, almost magically, they get delivered and penetrate a life completely out of context. Can you imagine?"
Thank you so much! Another week almost went by without any publication from my side. But I’ll resume regularly, soon. I’m just swamped now. Always so good to open substack and see your comments; I hope your semester is going well, my friend. And “Ritual” by Jon Hopkins, I’m not familiar with. But I shall remedy this right away. :)
Wonderfully eerie Silvio. I love you wandering those dusty old rooms, imagining all the love and grievances lost in fading ink.
Thank you so much, Kimberly! I wonder how many billions of words are stuck inside these imaginary repositories. Or maybe they’re not that imaginary, who knows.
#6 is the Answer of the Day!
Haha, it could be anything, really. Thank you, Troy!
Question #2: Do you always dance like no one is watching?
https://youtu.be/Y-z2k7VAtCI?si=1cF6csRdmNYhCAa-
LOL. Close! (PS: video unavailable)
Silvio, this one left me staring at the wall, a little breathless. That final twist—her imagining the very fate her letter endured—landed like a soft ghost brushing past my arm. I felt like I was the one who got the letter. Maybe we all did.
I also felt this, Anton.
I like that characterization, Anton. Thank you!
I have a box in a cupboard full of yellowing letters and faded postcards I cannot throw away. The handwriting of dead relatives is almost too poignant to contemplate although most of these missives were probably composed quite hurriedly, their contents often banal. I have a scrawled note to me as a pre-teen from my grandmother born in 1902 (so she was ten when the Titanic sank). It was torn from a used envelope and it says “Claire, please call round today to collect the gooseberries.” Looking at it freaks me out every time, as though she’s back again in the cottage of tangled ivy at the bottom of our lane. So this notion of voices “muffled and almost suffocated, as if trapped inside the envelopes” is definitely going to give me nightmares. ;-) Brilliant, Silvio!
Gosh, thank you! This is a little treasure you shared there. Beautiful!
Question #1: Why did I join the poll testing group at the auditions for that thing you wanted to be selected for?
Mmh, that sounds too difficult for a simple mind like mine to conceive! :)
One of the best, Silvio! I feel like I needed this read this morning, sitting on the bus now on the way to work (having read part of it on the train and then stoppint, letting the words sink in and the idea of the repository float around in my head, as the wonderful "Ritual" by Jon Hopkins floated around my ears). I've felt distracted the last week or so, hence my absence and lack of my own writing.
But reading this is grounding, magical, series.
The closing reply of #8 is just wow. The circular nature.
"Until one day, decades later, mysteriously, almost magically, they get delivered and penetrate a life completely out of context. Can you imagine?"
Thank you so much! Another week almost went by without any publication from my side. But I’ll resume regularly, soon. I’m just swamped now. Always so good to open substack and see your comments; I hope your semester is going well, my friend. And “Ritual” by Jon Hopkins, I’m not familiar with. But I shall remedy this right away. :)
Series = eerie. Oops typo!