Ess Lee

Joined February 2021

0 stories

Bio

Ess (she/her) is a writer and dramaturg from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania currently residing in Paris, France. Follow her on Twitter @essleewrites.

Stories (6/0)

Claude
It was only after my little sister began to lose her hair that she asked us to dig up our dead bird. But that took almost two months. Every visit we paid to the clinic the doctor asked her to tell him what was wrong, to tell him what hurt. And Gracie, perched fragilely on the edge of the examining table looking pale and lost in a giant paper gown would chirp meekly, “Nothing.” or “I don’t know.” And every time upon hearing this refrain the doctor would scratch his two days’ worth of stubble with the end of his pen and pretend to study her medical chart.
By Ess Lee2 years ago in Fiction
The Scent Alone
In my memory, she is always in the kitchen. The knife-edge taste of green onions pressed in salt, eaten raw or with a hard-boiled egg.
By Ess Lee3 years ago in Poets
What Do We Do with the Memory that Lives in the Body?
There are memories that live in your body. They awaken at unexpected moments like slack sheets invigorated by a sudden gust of wind. You know, at the electrical level, that this is time travel. The way the impulses in your brain cannot distinguish between then, now, maybe, and never. The firing is the same, the cascade of chemicals identical. In this way, you know, you can occupy the same space as them again. The same time. Sip their presence like a bracing tea, exchanging charges. Literally physically transported.
By Ess Lee3 years ago in Fiction
Easy to Love
In February of 2020, a man who wasn’t my husband told me I was “an easy person to love” as I sat in wide-eyed silence beside him at a bar. Exactly one year later, I decided to paint a self-portrait.
By Ess Lee3 years ago in Humans
Blooming
The true art of memory is the art of attention. - Samuel Johnson Blooming I never thought I was the sort of person to remember the names of flowers.
By Ess Lee3 years ago in Poets
Too Suddenly and Too Late
Because it is easy to fall in love in Paris, that is where we go to try again. When I say I am not optimistic, you look at me like the dog does when I leave the house and he sees I don’t have his leash.
By Ess Lee3 years ago in Humans

Ess Lee

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(6/0)

Claude

The Scent Alone

What Do We Do with the Memory that Lives in the Body?

Easy to Love

Blooming

Too Suddenly and Too Late

Stories (6/0)