I was born awake and knowing and time keeps proving this:
men have reasons for breaking the rules. For me, thinking
has always been a logical process of if this, then that. I fit into
a chair. I sit in a room. I split in two—my body behaves but
my mind resists. It’s a simple truth that one can occupy two
places at one time while sitting in a chair—the same way a
poseable doll can be divided from her dress. It’s also true that
time will mesh us together. Until then, there’s another city on
the other side of this wall. A list listing reordered details might
read like this: light, glass, a metal stairway, one woman sitting
on the sill of a window, me in a chair. My feet on the floor,
face forward, arm bent, the very best of the body tucked into
place. But we are not dolls. We feel. We make mistakes.
A Numbered Graph That Shows How Each Part of the Body Would Fit Into A Chair
Mary Jo Bang
‘It’s a simple truth that one can occupy two / places at one time while sitting in a chair—the same way a / poseable doll can be divided from her dress.’
Granta’s Best of Young British Novelists 5
The Cloud Factory
‘There’s this paradoxical nostalgia where even though yi suffered, yi miss it.’
Memoir by Graeme Armstrong.
Universality
‘She boils her sentences down to high-sucrose sweeties and calibrates her tone for maximum engagement.’
Fiction by Natasha Brown.
Theories of Care
‘The monstrous years of my late teens lay lined up alongside the rest of my life like bullets in a gun.’
A story by Sophie Mackintosh.
Mrs S
‘Without waiting for me she removes her white shirt. Each button a piece of my own spine, undone.’
Fiction by K Patrick.
Gunk
‘I followed him onto the dancefloor and he put his hands on my hips as if he’d known me for at least an hour.’
Fiction by Saba Sams.
