Author: Elisardbeth
-
Happy low
A friend invited me to a movie in what can only be described as the least Hallmark way possible. The Facebook message read: “If you’re sitting around your flat feeling fat and your husband’s working, why not tag along for a movie?” I stared at it, blinking. Then it clicked, ah, yes. Pregnancy. I’m used…
-
Time holds its breath
Time holds its breath in the neonatal intensive care unit — Ward 316 at Queen Silvia’s Children’s Hospital. Not even the dust dares to stir. Every shadow, every fold of fabric, every sterile surface is steeped in one single yearning: a mother’s prayer, whispered to anything willing to hear her. A plea for grace. For…
-
My family tree
Hulda Andersson was, by all accounts, not a beautiful woman. At least, that’s what I’ve heard, and the few photos I’ve seen do little to contradict the claim. She lived on a farm outside Blomstermåla at the end of the 19th century. Her husband passed away while she was pregnant, and she gave birth to…
-
Misplaced Hardys
The books arrived on a rainy Thursday. It felt like appropriate weather for reading.The FedEx box was in good condition. Inside were seven matching cloth-bound volumes, smelling faintly of mildew. I had expected the complete works of Thomas Hardy; tragic novels, windswept moors, the temporary nature of existence. What I got instead was an extremely…