The Episodes Issue
“In our fifth issue, we hope you will reflect alongside us on the past in order to look forward to the future. The episodes of life vary in content and effect from person to person, but here we have tried to collect a few examples from all over the world; Denmark to the USA, and between.
Join us as we explore a kitchen, outer space and our own minds, through a range of fiction, poetry and art - at your leisure. ”
Cover created by Jack PJ Summers
As we enter a new decade - and on a leap year no less - the Expanded Field team is excited to bring you our new issue: ‘Episodes’. We have taken a step into the future of this publication together, reimagining the website and introducing new ideas and aesthetics with the hope that you, the readers, can continue to enjoy and grow with us.
It is, of course, a question about identity and identifying. Who am I? Who are you? I am not what I seem. You can, or maybe you even should, identify me as an actor, but I have to be honest with myself at all times. I am only an orator. No, I am not even a writer in disguise…
the crystal ball above his head
was a means of producing light
illuminating the kitchen's sodden drudgery
his hand sliding easy over a liver
here you are in Araquipa
collecting your mail
staying in a Bed and Breakfast
run by a cranky old Englishwoman
It was the cold that drove his hands into his pockets, where his fingers brushed against paper. Soft between index and thumb, a remnant from the previous winter when the jacket had last been pulled from its hook. He pulled it out, crumpled and shapeless, from his pocket and unraveled it carefully, fingers stiff with cold.
They sent me here, and now I am about to receive their last goodbye. I have been given final instructions which I plan to carry out as efficiently as possible. Twenty-one Stark days ago (71.40 days on Earth, rounded to two decimal places), I first signalled that there was something wrong with me.
I often wonder what I would have said if I could have gone back to that moment. Ripped the veil between past and present to tell her exactly how right she was about me. I would start with I’m sorry. So very, very sorry. Because the truth is, there were many things I should have done and many sentences I should have said.
may gravity pull you back to the surface
from the space that resides
within these hours prior to five
fermenting eternally in these everlasting days
It strikes me as funny, so I laugh once, an odd sort of grating, gravelly chuckle. Everyone else in the canteen is frozen—mouths halfway open, holding their breath, wide eyes staring. Clocks tick unnervingly; the sharp sound of seconds snapping away.
