D. J. Reddall
Bio
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Stories (315/0)
Behold the Nerd
Let us suppose that identity is a matter of self-sameness, i.e., being who you appear to be. Given this definition, there are a few reasons why I resent the radical instability of my identity. Firstly, the fact that I am suffering from the effects of Multiple Sclerosis, which was diagnosed fifteen months ago, has changed how other humans comport themselves with respect—or the lack thereof—to me. This is especially obvious with regard to my employer, my boss (the two are distinct in the academic realm, which has interesting implications), my colleagues and my students. My handwriting has never been especially beautiful, but now it is often entirely unintelligible. My gait is odd. Perpetual tinnitus, a consequence of my first “flare,” makes me seem irritable and distracted. It will only get worse from here. I feel as though my internal reality is largely unchanged, but my external reality has been sliding toward insufferable. That, I resent.
By D. J. Reddall7 months ago in Confessions
Bathtub Jinn. First Place in Arid Challenge.
If you have ever believed that your brain is more perfect or beautiful than other brains, an MRI will sort that out. I was hurt by the bland mediocrity of my own brain. It was generic, typical—the sort of brain that you could see in stock images or textbooks. It matched the illustrations that accompany boilerplate lore about grey matter on The Mayo Clinic site that you might scroll through in a sweaty, hypochondriacal panic at three in the morning.
By D. J. Reddall7 months ago in Fiction
Touching Style. Top Story - November 2023.
Yesterday, I did something laughably mundane. I got a haircut. During the worst of the pandemic, this was by no means as trivial a matter as it ordinarily had been. A catalogue of almost invisibly routine phenomena was lit up with fresh strangeness by that crisis. Other humans were feverishly wiping down their groceries with bleach or replacing their masks between sips of iced coffee. It was a time of fear, confusion and anxiety.
By D. J. Reddall7 months ago in BookClub
Subscribe to my stories
Show your support and receive all my stories in your feed.
Send me a tip
Show your support with a small one-off tip.