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The Case of Gentleman Jack When the archaeologist holds the remains of past ages, what stories pass through their fingers?The time traveller must borrow archaisms if she is to be heard at all, to prevent time from editing meaning into misread stories, so that others might hear what she heard. She took to a gambol…
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Having an autistic burnout, and then relapsing into another while still in it, feels like standing outside of life. Everything is moving.You can see it, feel it, smell it.But you are not in it. You are not part of it. Time keeps passing, but every step forward feels like falling deeper into an abyss. It…
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Even new methods are designed in the moment, and the many moods that come of man and their minds. Even when travelling in time, we cannot influence the mood of the city, nor ask it to. We don’t breathe the air they breathe; we are only observing in the vast existence. We turn a corner,…
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Wandering in early-morning thought, I began to ponder this little musing. We have become sloppy and careless.We have lost the skill to understand poetry,or even to stay with what we are reading and hearing. We speak without thought.We build strong bodies, cultivate minds, and learn to understand our emotions…But where is eloquent language?In what writing…
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A few months ago, I wrote a paper for uni on how the same crime is punished differently by gender. Reading a recent news article about a young woman punished for using a weapon in self-defence reignited that fire. Innocence is spoken of as purity. But why do so many women’s[1] stories begin at the…
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The Lady of the Lake Speaks Her wisdom does not allow imperial-minded restriction,where fear destroys what it cannot control,and then calls the ruin protection. To speak of autism is not a story from the Book of Invasion.But a plea to the folk, to educate themselves, to loosen their grip on old beliefs that turn naming…
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Honestly, at this point, I’m convinced the universe is writing my life like a cosmic sitcom. Picture this: I finally get diagnosed autistic at forty-five and immediately discover I’m now both the ancient mythical sage and a small, overstimulated goblin-child who needs grape juice, quiet, and maybe a nap. The duality is outrageous. One minute…
Notes from a Time Traveller by Elke Stevens 