Tag Archives: memoir writing

A Day that Doesn’t Quite Fit

Posted on April 25, 2017 by Octavia

Early arrival to work. Earlier than normal, at least. It feels like I have all the time in the world. The awareness of time probably works against me, but not in a way that I am initially aware.

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Signature Doubts

Posted on February 9, 2014 by Octavia

I spent five full minutes trying to figure out how I should sign a letter to my uncle. My first instinct was not to write anything, just my name—but maybe that seems cold. Then, I looked to see what he … Continue reading →

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Socks, Shoelaces, Soup

Posted on January 20, 2014 by Octavia

Red had a surprising presence in the former half of my day. Red the color, that is. I don’t usually notice colors in passing. I use them to figure shit out – my wardrobe, my apartment, you know, aesthetics. But … Continue reading →

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Do You Think Her Shoes are Bothering Her?

Posted on November 5, 2013 by Octavia

I was walking down 13th street towards Metrocenter yesterday, when about a foot ahead of me, I saw red — down below. Blood red. Right on a woman’s heel. A gruesome sight, no doubt. She was clearly wearing uncomfortable shoes. … Continue reading →

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Not Quite a Poem

Posted on August 28, 2013 by Octavia

9:30 p.m., July 23, 2013 Kramerbooks & Afterwords Café “I Wanna be Down” by Brandy is playing semi-loudly, a song from 1994. I’ve been trying to motivate myself to write more these days and I guess there is no time … Continue reading →

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They Only Give You the Window Seat if You Ask for It

Posted on March 17, 2013 by Octavia

On the plane, preparing for take off. Watching the safety video, I can’t help thinking— How applicable is a “slow, relaxed demeanor?” In other words, were we in a situation requiring oxygen masks and life jackets, how likely would it … Continue reading →

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Suburban Taco Bell Peek

Posted on December 18, 2012 by Octavia

It is 12:40 pm and I’m sitting in the Taco Bell on Lee Highway in Arlington. I paid for a drink I didn’t even want. And drinking water out of a plastic cup, through a plastic straw, is gross. It’s interesting … Continue reading →

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