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My Two Fathers Are Watching
He towered over the troubled child, virtuous, virgin of hope, a child, ripped from a child herself. Messy when she fingerpaints, messy when she scribbled words that would one day become whole worlds, messy when she tried to climb the kitchen cabinets for biscuits before dinner, his very own Macarena. He had such hope for…
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The Girl’s Madness – Part One
I meet the eyes of my mother less and less, because of my envy, that I could never get past, and the fear that I will pass the point of being her pride and joy, disappearing into her disappointment. My body is a clam that longs for a pearl, passed over by the unkind sea,…
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Adam Was a Good Baby
There is so much that nobody tells you about being a mother. It’s so easy to fill a book with helpful tips about how to keep a house sterile, why breast is best, which classical artist to play to your child if you want them to get into a good university. I read them all,…
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Julian Was Coming To Visit
Glassy eyes, against the glass, of the garden facing window. Day is done, dinner, unfulfilling, clock ticking, then snailing. I hold a picture of him, beside my beating heart, that breaks, with every minute. Time snakes, snailing, hope hounded, but prevailing, because he could arrive, at any minute. Life is a surprise, if you let…
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Happy Home
I imagine, I was an adequate early birthday present, to my mother. Materialising, entering the air, with a solo scream, I became a socialite. Infant it girl, the name on so many lips, the day that I debuted, inside so many arms, I stared into so many faces, amazed, that they are so amazed. As…
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 