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There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
A drink from the sole is more refreshing than any bottled river. I felt the cushion of grass. It did not exclude, but wrapped its spines around me, tickled my dying ankles to rattle, greasing the bearings of my toes.
Invisible hands parted my gown and stroked my spine with stuff that was exquisitely cold. 'Put your bum in there,' he said, 'wriggle round till you're comfortable then lie back.' I knew very well that when I lay back, securely anchored by my bum in the space provided, the adhesive would hold me in its grip.
Inside an old case of art supplies I'd lugged in and out of three houses but rarely opened, I found a plastic bag with something like a dead rat in it. It was not an animal however but a full head of my own hair from the time I shaved my head. There is internal logic to hoarding, but it has its perils.
My daughter, at seven, imagines a Barbie doll that does not exist, one that has 'a very cool gun and real lipstick'. My son, at five, asks for 'a Jeep, a hot air balloon and real false teeth'. These preserved Christmas lists record my children's growth more accurately than their physical measurements.
'I've been looking after Vera since 1996. I wasn't going to stop because of glandular fever.' Clyde and I talk sport and the weather but Vera's always on his mind. 'Her memory's gone. I only ask her one question each day. I say, Who's your best mate? And she looks at me as if I'm stupid!'
Few dump masters are as erudite as Steve. 'Had a bloke here the other day, a Yank. Said he was after a couple of barrels. "You mean drums," I says. But no. He didn't want to play the bloody drums, he wanted barrels. Well, I says, the only barrels round here are wine barrels. What you want is drums.'
Hans shows me an invention which magnifies letters for his failing eyes, so that still he may read, so that still the winds may turn the bronze art coins of his perception. Cobweb-like sculptures dream upon some shelves, poetry is the wing of his bird-like speech.
I have just returned from visiting friends in remote Aboriginal communities. It was a sad trip. A large number of young people have died in recent years, some close friends. They represent the trifecta of young peoples' deaths: car accidents, suicides and chronic disease.
Sleep was not in two-year-old Laura's holiday plans: she inhabited several time zones, none of them ours. One night, at 11, when she was getting revved up for another two hours of play, I decided to take her to the shops. I should mention that Laura has Down syndrome.
After she died — her mind went first, then the rest — he moved across town, where he lived in a different type of street. A busy street with traffic and noise. No place for a street party. Once a year, though, he returns to see the next generation of neighbours. New leaves on old trees.
In many Asian cultures paleness is an indication of class and beauty. But why would Asian women want to look like Pamela Anderson? For the same reason white women do: there's a globalised beauty standard that is gendered, racialised, and hierarchical.
The next edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders may merge Asperger's into the broader 'autism spectrum disorder'. The father of a misdiagnosed two-year-old boy reveals the emotional and social implications of mental illness pigeonholing.