Kenyatta Eckert

“When I'm hung-over I try to imagine being old and look- ing back fondly on now, on this bit I'm currently living, and how in retrospect it might seem adventurous. In the future when I only ever sit in a chair because I'm too gnarled for pleasure or movement I'll remember when I stayed out all night and had life-changing conversations and walked all the way home because I lost my phone.”
― Sara Pascoe, Weirdo

“Gossip is like thread wound over a spindle of truth, changing its shape.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“The only clarity – if oppressive fog could ever be clarity – was the violent, throbbing, boiling agony pressing her against the ground.
There were sounds, too: shouting, screaming, banging, thudding, squawking, chittering.
It hurt to breathe.
“No snake! No snake!” A woman’s voice shrilled.
“Christ sake! Let the bloody thing out. That one, too.” A man’s voice, shouting – bellowing – commands.
A hand lifted her wrist, and through the torment of pain, she realised that fingers were releasing her watch strap.”
― Miriam Verbeek, The Forest

“The telegram was sealed – an old-fashioned touch, I thought, but then I’d never had a telegram before. I took my time opening it. I said nothing.”
― Michael Wyndham Thomas, The Erkeley Shadows