All in ramble

Pandemic Birthday

Pandemic Birthday

Devon Sioui
essays, ramble, motherhood, marlo

I attempt to explain that I get how strange this is, and that I am sorry, that this has never happened before, and it is weird for me, too. But we can’t go back to the ball diamond, at least not for awhile. That we have to wait until it is open again. You then repeat it seventy-nine more times, because you are three. And then you gag because you smelled Gert’s yawn, or a bag of chips opening, or someone’s fart, or your own fart, because sometimes you can’t tell the difference, and because you are three, no matter what it is but especially about this, you are very accusatory.

Say Goodbye

Say Goodbye

Devon Sioui
ltlym assignments, essays, ramble, prose

Goodbye Morning.
Goodbye Yesterday.
Goodbye Poppa.
Goodbye Childhood Best Friend.
Goodbye Childhood Everything.
Goodbye Mark.
Goodbye Bad Habit.
Goodbye Other Bad Habit.
Goodbye Fear of Death.
Goodbye Bare Feet At Night.
Goodbye Very Short Days.
Goodbye City Patios.
Goodbye Pizza Every Night.
Goodbye Life Without B12.
Goodbye Wedding Succulents.
Goodbye Wish Tree.
Goodbye Thirst D.
Goodbye Angry Neighbour.
Goodbye Hair.
Goodbye Loft.
Goodbye Toronto.
Goodbye You (Most Likely).

Doby

Doby

Devon Sioui
essays, family, ramble

The cold really shrinks my fingers. I'd deduced it fell off into a snowbank, after I tore my house apart once I realized it wasn't on my finger. Part of me expected to find it when I moved six months later. I'd had some drinks the night I lost it, and, not being a stranger to losing things and terrified of having to relive the pain of losing it again in the morning, I scrawled myself a note on the chalkboard in the kitchen thinking I could ease into it.