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XLVI. Mama's Jewelry Box.
"Her pink jewelry box sits open between us like a small and very serious government."
A daughter, a mother, and the unspoken rules of who gets to shine.
Charlene Iris
Sep 243 min read


XLV. "Come Back When It's in the Yard"(Part I).
"Watching the neighbourhood empty itself in real time, dripping in a blazer she'd sweated through twice already, it was, Linda thought, a very good evacuation to shoot..."
Charlene Iris
Sep 235 min read


XLIV. Total Surveillance For Ballistic Convenience.
Meet the man who broadcasts his location every morning: not out of fear, but "professionalism." A darkly funny descent into a future where privacy isn't a right, it's an inconvenience to your executioner. A satire.
Charlene Iris
Jul 243 min read


XLIII. A Suburb of Empty Space.
"Tiredness in a Tuesday, worn since the last time it was tired. Tired of the next thing, the next thing, the next thing, the...."
Charlene Iris
Jul 51 min read


XLII. "Subject: A Correction, Issued Formally and With Great Sincerity".
"To Whom It May Concern,
I write to issue a formal retraction of my life's central thesis..."
Charlene Iris
Jun 303 min read


XLI. On the Inevitable Termination of the Sisyphean Sentence: A Mock Academic Essay.
Abstract: The punishment of Sisyphus, son of Aeolus, King of Ephyra, has long been regarded as the paradigmatic example of eternal, futile labor. This paper challenges that assumption. Through application of standard tribological models, erosion rate equations, and basic thermodynamic principles, we demonstrate that...
Charlene Iris
Jun 265 min read


XL. How to Steal a Tray (Without Doing Any Drugs).
Strong boundaries around cocaine. Zero boundaries around vintage homeware. A satire.
Charlene Iris
Jun 212 min read


XXXIX. Things I Would Kill For.
A list of wants, in no particular order, ending in violence. The best kind.
Charlene Iris
Jun 201 min read


XXXVIII. Eternity Ledger.
They say liquidity is freedom. I say balance is a myth marketed to those already on their knees. A piece about learning to stack the weight of eggs against eternity.
Charlene Iris
Apr 221 min read


XXXVII. "Marcescence".
From the Latin marcescere: to wither, to fade, but not yet to fall. The retention of dead plant matter on a tree through winter, when in most species it would have been shed. A piece about two trees, two kinds of grief, and the strange envy of those who let go.
Charlene Iris
Apr 211 min read
Musings
Wander through the dusk-lit rooms of SomEpiphany.
A living archive: the tender, the tangled, the mildly ridiculous. Fragments of life that insisted on being remembered.
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