It has been about a decade between catching up with Kate et al. from The Taming of the Shrew. And before my mid-2000 reading, I had a brief catch up in High School when I was a student. The different phases of my own life informed my reading of the play, adding a richness each time I’ve caught up with the squad over the times. When I was a 16-year-old feminist, I was mortified by Petruchio’s cruelty towards Kate. I think even then, I knew I was a Shrew, so I took her treatment personally. Somewhere inside, I feared being…


Molly

The old cliche, “It’s better to have loved and lost than to have not loved,” is the most ridiculous assertion, clearly made by some sadomasochist. In the thick mist of grief after losing a love, I always think it would be easier to lock my heart away in a deep, dark dungeon then swallow the key. Throwing it away isn’t final enough to encapsulate the grief I feel today. It’s been twenty-four hours since the dreaded call. Twenty-four hours since I lost hope. Twenty-four hours since my heart that was only stuck together by sticky tape and some glitter glue…


“Fat bitch” I’d heard too often as I walked down the street trying to tone up my legs and drop a few kilos. It didn’t make me want to leave my house to try and exercise when neanderthals in utes felt the need to yell out insults. Dude, tell me something I don’t know. I’d usually flip them off, but inside, a little bit of me died each time this happened. My other favourite was small children bellowing out, “Mummy, look at that fat lady.” Fair enough, you looked, but then your eyes caught sight of my bulbous legs, and…

Hannah Geraghty

Hello from Australia! I’m a wife, mum, animal lover and educator who does a lil’ writing on the side.

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