This is a post from my TinyLetter. Sign up to ‘Please Applaud With Hands Only’ to get emails from me directly to your inbox. Happy New Year! Theatre in the North East takes a break in January which I don’t mind so much as I need a break from it too. I wanted to keep the momentum […]
Author archives: laurenvevers
night swimming
In summer I think about Hockney. But in winter, Hopper. Every night on the short walk back from the station I pass an office block, a grey vacuum lit by the yellowish blur of artificial light. It’s a spectacle that only becomes apparent in the colder months and on days when the evenings seem to […]
postcards from split
Leftovers
Originally published on Hobart Pulp I start working in the bakery because I think of it as romantic. I count each sugared donut while composing hypothetical letters to past lovers half-invented, half-remembered. Last night was nice. Not remarkable, but pleasant in its stillness and companionship. I’m writing to you to tell you that it’s over. […]
bad weather
When it rains in Hemingway it’s a precursor to something awful happening. In A Farewell to Arms, Catherine articulates this fear to Henry declaring, ‘I’m afraid of the rain because sometimes I see myself dead in it. And sometimes I see you dead in it.’ It doesn’t end well. In the summer of 2013 I […]