Category: Brigid’s Diary
-
18 May: The Liturgy
Liturgy for the Burning of Iron(Sussex, 1838—where the poor refused to starve in silence) I. The Ledger of HungerEngland asked for more.Not more work —the labourers gave that already,their backs bent to the sickle,their hands calloused by the scythe,their winters surrenderedto a season that never paid its debts. England called for silence.For gratitude.For wages that…
-
12 May: Six Sentence Story
Part 10: Brigid’s Diary, Valence’s Saturday Market Spring 1836: Sun broke over Valence like pardon too easily granted; the Rhône ran molten and bright, the air rinsed so clean of coal smoke that it felt like a trick. Beyond it, the cathedral held its spine against the sky while the market spilled colour into the…
-
1105: The Liturgy
Episode 10: Liturgy for the Saturday Market Valence, 1836: Where hunger measures every stranger I. The Root The people of Valenceare rooted in hunger — missed meals,children whose ribslearn to count themselvesbefore they learn their letters. This hunger speaks.And calculates. Every loafa fraction.Every coina remainder.Every strangera divisor in an equationalready too tight. Hunger empties the…
-
2204: Six Sentence Story
Part 9: Brigid’s Diary, The Market at Vienne To Bear Witness We stepped off the boat at Vienne, and the town met us with a quiet menace — uneven stones slick with thaw, my hems dragging through muck, Felreil’s boots slipping as if the ground itself had learned mistrust. Saturday market pulled us by the…
-
2104: The Liturgy
Liturgy for Market Day at Vienne(where the living bargain and the dead witness) I. The Uneven WorldThe stone setts are uneven,not worn smooth by time,but accusing.Each misstep a reminder:you do not belong here.Your feet have not learnedthis city’s particular limp. Felreil’s boots slip in the persistent drizzle.My hems drag through muckthat smells of horses and…
-
1404: Six Sentence Story
Part 8: Brigid’s Diary, Night on the Rhône — Half-Light and Wake That night on the river I learned how sound can become a weight, the engine’s pulse settling into my bones until sleep itself felt mechanical. The lanterns shook in their brasses, and the Rhône carried a smell of acrid silt and sulfur embers…
-
1304: The Liturgy, Part 8
Liturgy for the Mechanical DarkNight on the Rhône, Half Light and Awake I. The Weight of Sound Sound has become a weight.Not noise—noise is fleeting:a shout, a clatter; this thingshuffles marrow in bone. This is weight:the engine’s pulse hammering my bonesuntil sleep feels mechanical,a function rather than a rest. Lanterns shake in their brackets.The floor…
-
0804: Six Sentence Story
The Steamboat — The First Descent Brigid’s Diary, Episode 06: April 1834 The steamboat called “Le Marsouin” shouldered the Rhône with a relentless thump-thump-thump, its side wheels beating water into obedience while the sound ran the banks like a bruise. The engine breathed deep and hoarse beneath us, heat and hiss rattling the wooden hull…
-
0704: The Six Liturgy
Liturgy for the Steamer’s Hold(a hymn for those who have known the terror of enclosure) I. The Shudder That Will Not StopIt enters you through the soles of your feet.The paddle wheel’s repeating blow,strike after strike relaying another,water beaten into obedienceand singing its pain through the hull. The shudder climbs your spine,settles in your skull,becomes…
-
3103: Six Sentence Story
Brigid’s Diary: Part 06, Lyon First Motion on the Rhône Steamboat The steamboat did not startle me; it announced itself, breath thick with coal, pistons beating like a heart forced into discipline, smoke writing its claim across the Rhône as though the river had been waiting to be corrected. I watched the paddle bite water…
It's Still Life 