Since I Left Home

by Victoria Thompson

Originally published on December 1, 2011

I realized that I am missing many things—a shoehorn, a cash box, a serrated knife. But these things are not really missing because I see no use for them. After the lawn was mowed for the last time and before I gave away the keys, I hooked down a diet coke and took out the [...]

Visiting Hours at McLean Psychiatric Hospital – Waltham, MA

by Victoria Thompson

Originally published on August 1, 2011

Lined up in front of the television, the chairs look like scattered boats waiting for the start of the regatta. I’m telling myself I look normal, not nervous. I get it from my mother. At age sixteen, she cut her front lawn with craft scissors, praying not to be seen— waving a toothy “hello” when [...]

Sabbath Day Soft Serve

by Victoria Thompson

Originally published on July 1, 2011

Stirring a spoon in swoops between the letters of alphabet cereal, I watch my mother drop pills into her seven-day pill container. It’s a familiar sound— soft, but consistent and sometimes destructive, like the tick of water from a leaky pipe dripping into the steel soup pan that your mother told you to put beneath [...]