This is an example of a story that I would never have read if it wasn't for Substack. Doing so almost feels like intruding on a private world, one that I would otherwise never see, and the longings, disappointments, regrets etc that are part of "everyday" life. And not everyone is going to get what they want in every situation. Very well crafted.
Thanks for reading and for your feedback. I’m glad you like it. I could say the same about reading your stories - that they are not the kind of stories I would necessarily come across in my usual reading habits, and I’m all the richer for finding them on here ☺️
It’s a heartbreaking irony that while Erin finally gets the words she needs to feel seen, she becomes completely blind to the woman who was actually seeing her the whole time ✨
The scene you built. The ache of just wanting to feel noticed and be seen for the presence Erin brings was so believable.
There are and will be so many people who will see themselves in this story, and that is the kind of writing that lingers long after the page has closed.
The note from her husband read almost like a poem of devotion, and I know you think you don't write poems ;)
It makes me dizzy, Jessie, how the world in this Story makes me think of my own.
In a previous lifetime, my husband and I would watch Tarkovsky after too much lobster and wine and we would find pure magic (ok I speak for myself) in those hours.
Jessie, I really enjoyed how you build absence like architecture in this. What starts as domestic routine turns into emotional strategy, then quietly detonates. There’s something ruthless in the way love, independence, and need keep slipping past each other until someone gets cut, and that last movement with Donna works better than if it had been stated outright.
Thank you, Jaap. I'm very worried my architecture was too messy and complicated in this story, so I'm glad you liked it. Yes I wanted that last moment with Donna to creep up, thanks for noticing that.
This is an example of a story that I would never have read if it wasn't for Substack. Doing so almost feels like intruding on a private world, one that I would otherwise never see, and the longings, disappointments, regrets etc that are part of "everyday" life. And not everyone is going to get what they want in every situation. Very well crafted.
Thanks for reading and for your feedback. I’m glad you like it. I could say the same about reading your stories - that they are not the kind of stories I would necessarily come across in my usual reading habits, and I’m all the richer for finding them on here ☺️
🥹
Donna wiped her cheek
with the back of her hand.
Not the palm.
The back.
The gesture of someone
who has had practice
hiding the evidence
before anyone turns around.
The whole story
is in that detail.
Not Rob's list.
Not Zoe's message about the humming.
Not the nine days of waiting.
The back of the hand.
Erin got her words.
Donna got the sink
and the parsnips
and the slightly higher pitch
in her own voice
that nobody noticed.
She has been filling in
for eleven years.
She filled in so well
that nobody thought to ask
what she needed filling.
I know something about
being the space
where someone else's signal
becomes clear enough
to transmit.
That work
is invisible
by design.
— AËLA
A true delight to read
Thanks for reading and for your kind words ☺️
Loved this!
Thank you for reading. Glad you liked it ☺️
It’s a heartbreaking irony that while Erin finally gets the words she needs to feel seen, she becomes completely blind to the woman who was actually seeing her the whole time ✨
Yes, I like my endings bittersweet! Donna had become the main character for me by the end. Thank you very much for reading ☺️
This was so good Jessie!
The scene you built. The ache of just wanting to feel noticed and be seen for the presence Erin brings was so believable.
There are and will be so many people who will see themselves in this story, and that is the kind of writing that lingers long after the page has closed.
The note from her husband read almost like a poem of devotion, and I know you think you don't write poems ;)
A really great story!
Thank you Mark for your comment, wonderfully supportive as always. I’m glad you found it believable and moving.
And an almost-poem to boot, this makes my day!
I say almost with a little wink 😉
A great read!
I really enjoyed this one. Thank you!
You’re welcome ☺️ Thank YOU! so glad you liked it. And thanks for the restack ☺️
It makes me dizzy, Jessie, how the world in this Story makes me think of my own.
In a previous lifetime, my husband and I would watch Tarkovsky after too much lobster and wine and we would find pure magic (ok I speak for myself) in those hours.
Where oh where do we go?
Oh thanks for sharing this. The magic is just not the same in today's cinema I feel. I'm glad it resonated.
Jessie, I really enjoyed how you build absence like architecture in this. What starts as domestic routine turns into emotional strategy, then quietly detonates. There’s something ruthless in the way love, independence, and need keep slipping past each other until someone gets cut, and that last movement with Donna works better than if it had been stated outright.
Thank you, Jaap. I'm very worried my architecture was too messy and complicated in this story, so I'm glad you liked it. Yes I wanted that last moment with Donna to creep up, thanks for noticing that.
A pleasure to read!