Her Body and Other Parties: Stories

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He is so glad of this development he begins to mutter a long and exhaustive fantasy as he removes his pants and enters me.

Neighbours found their bodies torn open and strewn around their tiny cabin, but never located their infant daughter, alive or dead. I have a breast that heaves out of my dresses in a way that seems innocent and perverse all at the same time.She chewed on her lip, and the pot of coffee tipped in her hand, dripping tiny brown dots onto the linoleum. When the notice come over the radio that the virus had somehow reached Nebraska, I realized I had to go east, and so I did. Kérchy’s monograph also contributes to contemporary critical debates on body and identity in their relation to textuality/sexuality, boundaries, difference and power. One of my favourite stories is about an old woman and her husband – a man mean as Mondays, who scared her with the violence of his temper and the shifting nature of his whims. In the day-to-day world, men joke about how it makes sex less fulfilling, and people around the narrator are concerned with how this is going to affect the fashion industry.

To me the narrator seemed like an example of someone who has unconsciously internalised misogyny, and struggles to realise that until it's too late.Drawing on old folklore and urban legends like "The Girl with the Green Ribbon" in its depiction by Alvin Schwartz, [17] "The Husband Stitch" is narrated by a woman with a green ribbon around her neck.

There is always her body, and there are also always all those other parties who believe they are entitled to it. After a brief examination, the doctor tells the daughter that all her mother needs is some medicine.

As my lopped head tips backwards off my neck and rolls off the bed, I feel as lonely as I have ever been. They gave her a knife to stick into the frosty earth, as a way of proving her presence and her theory.

Similarly, it becomes increasingly harder for the narrator to keep her husband from touching her ribbon.

I pull him through the trees, and when we find a patch of clear ground I shimmy off my pantyhose, and on my hands and knees offer myself up to him. We had sex in the empty house that used to belong to his brother and his brother’s wife and their children, all dead.