{"id":10845,"date":"2016-05-07T08:00:29","date_gmt":"2016-05-07T08:00:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=10845"},"modified":"2020-12-09T15:11:08","modified_gmt":"2020-12-09T15:11:08","slug":"carrie-etter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/carrie-etter\/","title":{"rendered":"Carrie Etter"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>The Find<\/strong><\/p>\n<div style=\"text-indent: 23px;\">\n<p>At the garage sale I smiled when I saw Emily Dickinson\u2019s selected poems. Didn\u2019t I have this edition at home? Inside it read: To Marie. Friends forever. Love, Alice.<em><\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>I was<\/em> Alice\u2014that was my handwriting. Was the woman in the lawn chair, watching over the sale, Marie? I tried imagining the middle-aged woman without the crow\u2019s feet, without the gray hairs, and thought I could discern my high school friend. Why had we stopped talking? What would I say?<\/p>\n<p>I took the book to the woman and handed over a dollar. \u201cPoetry, eh?\u201d the woman remarked. \u201cNever was my thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p>This short is taken from <strong>Carrie Etter&#8217;<\/strong>s first pamphlet of short fiction, Hometown,\u00a0 which is out now from V. Press\u00a0 :<a href=\"http:\/\/vpresspoetry.blogspot.co.uk\/p\/bookshop.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">http:\/\/vpresspoetry.blogspot.co.uk\/p\/bookshop.htm<\/a>l. She has published other stories in Flash, New Welsh Review, The Nottingham Review, and other journals, and she keeps a blog devoted to flash fiction and prose poetry at <a href=\"http:\/\/suddenprose.blogspot.co.uk\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">http:\/\/suddenprose.blogspot.com.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &nbsp; The Find At the garage sale I smiled when I saw Emily Dickinson\u2019s selected poems. Didn\u2019t I have this edition at home? Inside it read: To Marie. Friends forever. Love, Alice. I was Alice\u2014that was my handwriting. Was the woman in the lawn chair, watching over the sale, Marie? I tried imagining the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[135,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10845","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2016-poetry-picks","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10845","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10845"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10845\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23834,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10845\/revisions\/23834"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10845"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10845"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10845"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}