Folded Word
Exploring the world, one voice at a time.
Tag: samantha priestley
Together
They had a routine, and that was something to hold onto. Every morning began the same. She couldn’t remember exactly what the night and the day had been like before they made this child, but she knew they had been less full, less anchored.
A Kind Of Allowing
This morning when she came in I knew it was going to be one of those days. She had a look in her eyes and under her skin that made the coldest fear suck at my insides. It wasn’t the first time, but I wasn’t used to it yet and I couldn’t look at it with any kind of calmness. That would come. Thank god that would come.
A Meeting of Minds
They sit around the table, ten women, their years stretched between fifty-five and eighty-three. They take a mug of tea and a shortbread biscuit between their stiff fingers and they wait a while.
Save Our Trees
My city is one of the greenest in the country, known as ‘the outdoor city’ its pockets of green spaces and its close proximity to open countryside give it its semi rural feel. Sheffield straddles post industrialism with nature easily, perhaps because it has always mixed the two. Factories back onto the river. Parks and gardens over-look the busy town centre. And suburban streets are lined with trees, providing the name ‘the leafy suburbs’. But these streets have had a fight on their hands lately. One which they seem to be losing.
2017 Wrap-Up
A note from the Editor in Chief When I look back at everything Folded Word published this year, I can’t believe how far this press has come in nine years. From Jessie Carty’s 2008 launch of the YouTube zine Shape of a Box to… Continue Reading “2017 Wrap-Up”
Blue John Cavern
Deep, deep below the ground among the hills. Up through the haunted Winnat’s Pass and down, follow the land like a spill of wine. The green meets the blue as the hills touch the sky and sheep roam wherever they like. Here is the mouth of a cave. Enter the stone and step down into the earth and feel the linger of Romans who discovered this opening 2000 years before.
Making Marks
The building feels like a warehouse, though I know it was once used as workshops for metal workers. The stairways hold the memories of the mesters who once crafted their material, each step I make as I ascend tinny with the clank of the metal frame and steps. I like to think we keep their spirits alive by carrying on the tradition of art in this space.
Out and About with The Fold
Video chat with Samantha Priestley, plus invitation to reading with William O’Daly and JS Graustein.
Pushcart 2017 Nominees
Folded Word is proud to nominate the following work, published in 2016, for the 2017 Pushcart Prize:
Draw Me A Dream
He parked his car in the multi-story, got out and breathed the cold air in. The rain swayed in through the upper open plan area like a slow swarm of midges. The sky was the colour of a 4B pencil.
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