Kathy’s Reviews > Mean > Status Update
Kathy
is 61% done
“I slouched behind my Bible, which was propped upright on my desk. I skimmed The Communist Manifesto, which I’d wedged into the Gospels. Vague as it was, I still preferred Marx’s alms-for-everyone utopia to the snow-white heaven we got snapshots of in class. White is so hard to keep clean.”
— Sep 18, 2025 03:37PM
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Kathy’s Previous Updates
Kathy
is 90% done
“By denying certain events a place in the historical record, there’s a certain denial of truth. With that denial comes dignity. Belief in one’s basic dignity is like makeup. It helps you leave the house. It protects your real face, the you-est you, against judgments.”
— Sep 18, 2025 05:48PM
Kathy
is 70% done
“I want to chipmunk or squirrel away the memory of this event, place it in a tree trunk with the memories of all the other rapes, attempted rapes, and gropes, memories that will never be released or consumed. When a man asks, “What did he do to you?” he’s asking to eat one of these traumatic acorns. Girls never ask for these seeds. They know what it’s like[...]” // Strawberry Picker, Exquisite Corpse
— Sep 18, 2025 04:13PM
Kathy
is on page 51 of 175
“Female fasting has its own grammar and syntax. Men, especially fathers, often misinterpret it. By fasting, a girl ascends a throne made of bone. She stares into the face of the divine and beyond. She finds that infinity has no caloric value. This is fine. Emptiness comes to nourish her. It replaces her marrow. All of her hope calcifies, cracks, and disappears. She laughs at gravity.”
— Sep 18, 2025 06:10AM
Kathy
is on page 32 of 175
“Somewhere on this planet, a man is touching a woman to death. […] Moon glows above me. My skin prickles. Goose bumps remind me. In this emptiness, I am never alone. Shadows fall. Shadows fall again. No one can touch them.”
— Sep 17, 2025 05:41PM
Kathy
is on page 4 of 175
[As a child] “I spoke my first words at a place more American than Appomattox: the McDonald’s across from the Greyhound bus station. This makes me a patriot, though the words themselves were Francophile. “French fry,” I moaned, reaching for one.”
— Sep 17, 2025 07:02AM

