Thank you to @dintywmoore.bsky.social and Team Walrus for creating the conditions for this to emerge and to @hattiefletcher.bsky.social and the Short Reads team for giving it a home.
‪@shala-24.bsky.social‬) via @short-reads.org.

www.short-reads.org/une-femme/

This one resonated with me, from French class to being with my dad and stepmom instead of my mom that first time. Thanks for writing!

I just read this in my inbox (slow to get around to them sometimes) and I really enjoyed it-- the last line hits hard

In a new @longreads essay, @caylinct.bsky.social‬ writes about Sublime's late frontman Bradley Nowell, poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, addiction, and limits: longreads.com/2025/05/22/s...

"I lived in Massachusetts, inland—not even really coastal, let alone West Coast. My town was small, my neighborhood the woods. I didn’t go to many parties. Not the kind Sublime sang about, anyway." — @caylinCT.bsky.social‬

“Do you remember being 16 and loving a song? Of course you do. It felt like that. It felt like everything.”

This @longreads.com essay on Sublime and addiction and seeking what you’ll never reach and the shitty parts of Massachusetts hit home for me in all the right ways. Damn.

Leah!!! (Stretches arms through computer and across space) Thank you. These kind words mean so very much to me.

Thank you for this, and for the copyedit, Cheri!

So thrilled to have this brain baby out today! Many thanks to Brendan Fitzgerald (editorial), Julie Schwietert-Collazo (fact checking), Cheri Lucas Rowlands (copyediting), and Longreads (general CNF dreamboatery) at large for helping me bring it into the world.

Thank you for reading!

“I bequeath you the decade between us. It was / useless and warm, like a house party. // Like a house party, I spent it in the kitchen, / counter-top-perched, glittering so lightly / no one noticed my gravity.” — @caylinct.bsky.social, “For My 20-Year-Old Sister on My 30th Birthday”

“Your brother is doing well because you have adjusted/your definition of ‘well.’ He wakes sober in a house//Of sober men. They eat dry toast, and he drives to the tiny/Cape Cod airport to wave his arms around and drag//cigarettes” — @caylinct.bsky.social,
“Cassiopeia” @newenglandreview.bsky.social