Category: Slice of Life 2022
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My memory/His memory/Which memory
Why did you tell me that? Here and now when all I wanted to do to was go home. The drive was really long and the trees didn’t go by fast enough. You were mad. I know. Because I am/was demanding. But now we are parked in my driveway of the duplex with sunken windows…
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Fictional Truth Writing
There it was again. Thump. Thump. “I know you are there! Come out so I can see you!” Richard called, his voice shaking. He was so tired. Tired of the sounds. The whispers. The constant not knowing. “Just come out so I can see you!” Fists clenched, he banged the wall, not sure if he…
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The students are better than me
A year ago today, I posted this on my various social media. Thinking back, it was the midst of going from our April break into virtual that would last the rest of the school year, despite outcries of “Oh, we’ll be back in a few weeks!” About a year ago today, I was set up…
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The Kids are Alright
I had one of those teaching moments yesterday, that, in the moment, I realized it was absolutely brilliant, but I don’t think I fully appreciated it in the moment. I can’t say, really, it surprised me. This class of students has been wonderful. Really any pejorative I can use would work. However, there we were…
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No one remembers the second last…
No one remembers the second last. The second last day of school; the anticipation scratching. The second last snow storm. The second last rain. No one remembers the second last movie they watched. Song they sun. Mouth they kissed. No one remembers the second last day before the flowers in the boquet wilted.
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Tiny Toy Cactus
Don’t you find that things spin and toss and roll all to you; a pass you weren’t quite ready to receive, at once? That’s sort of what life has been like the last couple of days. That moment where you feel things are sort of…you know, manageable? Then the plate continues to help itself at…
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I’m too tired today…
and, oh — can you? Can you come down to the office for a minute? I need a list of all the students who stay for lunch. Can you just email parents and ask? Oh, and can you change my seat, Mrs. Allum? I don’t want to sit there anymore. We had a falling out.…
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Sunday Solitude
There is a fine line I dance between loving being alone, relishing in it, and being afraid of what I will find out about myself. Headphones in. House music playing. My feet walking in 4/4 time through this suburban neighbourhood. The wind is rich; and cold whips and lashes my cheeks. Like me, the weather…
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Generator — Foo Fighters
I woke up to the news that Taylor Hawkins has passed. At first, as with the sheer act of scrolling through social media, it zoomed up and over, not really processing. When it popped up a second time, I paused. As music does, the connections to the band crushed me. The weight of history and…
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Remembering my Mother
With soft hands and filed nails, I remember my mother. Tuna casserole and no-name brand tea. Crossed ankles, star-crossed lovers, and long drags on thin cigarettes. A budgie singing. It’s notes a crescendo with smashed porcelain dishes. A slight head nod, and a knee that won’t stop bouncing on that crossed ankle. Fleetwood Mac, volume…
Heidi Allum 