Viewport width =
Izzy web
August 15, 2016 | by  | in Features |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

Izzy Carson


This is my apartment for another nineteen days

it’s too hot to sleep

in this small room

people tell me the temperature in fahrenheit and I convert it to celsius on my phone

I leave my bedroom door open and turn on the fan at night


I think it’s important to find something sacred in your normal spaces, the everyday architecture of your life

it’s like when you visit a museum or a cathedral

the hush that comes over you as you feel so small but like there is so much significance in your presence, in your history, in the history of this place

I like these precious moments in my room, finding things hidden

the past things and the things we end up leaving behind


This is my third home in four months

there are holes in the wall from absent paintings or photographs hung in a previous tenancy, little punctuation marks; full stops

wavy brush strokes of mismatched paint

someone’s smudged fingerprints on the doorframe, a reminder of bodies that have slept where I am trying to sleep now

there is a tiny metal pin in the shape of an angel that landed on the floor as I moved a chest of drawers

it’s gold

and sharp, if I had stepped on it I would have hurt myself

but I heard it fall and so I put it back


Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. Pizza Base Recipe
  2. VUWSA to Sell Van
  3. Hunter Lounge Raking in Business as Reality Sets In
  4. Rule and Exception
  5. The Party Line
  6. Volume 81 Issue 03: Stale-ient
  7. Are We Live
  8. 15 Things I’d Rather Do Than “Discuss With the Person Next to Me” in a Lecture
  9. Superorganism Self-Titled
  10. Trump’s America

Editor's Pick

This Ain’t a Scene it’s a Goddamned Arm Wrestle

: - SPONSORED - Interior – Industrial Soviet Beerhall – Night It was late November and cold as hell when I stumbled into the Zhiguli Beer Hall. I was in Moscow, about to take the trans-Mongolian rail line to Beijing, and after finding someone in my hostel who could speak Englis