lucia bailey

Have Something Sweet

Lucia Bailey


Written for those who have ever feel like they need to run away.

When I’m sad I eat Godiva Chocolate. Milk chocolate filled with caramel, marshmallow, or raspberry. My Grandmother always said to “eat something sweet” when you feel as if you have failed, so if it’s not chocolate, I eat cashew milk ice cream and blueberries. If that does not soothe I turn to Mallomars, Grandfather’s favorite, stuff my face with cannoli, tartufo, tiramisu and yes, this would finally fulfill for a bit, she was right.

After a while though, the same feeling of defeat would creep over me bit by bit until I was trapped. The older I become the more failures I seem to accidentally summon, something that a fix of sweet cannot pacify. And what about the days that I fail others? Promise something that I never actually complete, pick a job they would not have chosen for me, and wrote a piece that could be better, longer, clearer. I wish I could ask my grandmother now if these times also warrant for something sweet.

Recently I picked up a box of chocolate- I was planning to lock myself in my room for the day which is an action that I truly believe keeps me sane. But this particular time, I was attempting to run away, lock the door from the aspirations of others and keep the room dark to not light up my mistakes. There was no one here to blame for trying to escape except myself and I understood that nothing will change here until I flick on the lights showing all of my mess and pick up each mistake one at a time.



ISSUE NO. 2 • Are we there yet?

I chose to write this piece because I want to remember individuals who have not had the opportunity to travel as I have.

Hunting for Christmas decorations in a cramped loft, I lifted a jade

top off a crimson container. Hidden beneath period piece photos

and flaxen and snow yarn I spotted a tattered postcard of Tuscany.

On the back was your script:

One day I’ll go.

Instead days consumed of cooking cutlets, pretending to love

a man, constantly craving another calling. You’d dream

of just writing a check

One day I’ll go.

You never were able to taste real Italian wine,

gaze out at mountains capped with snow dust

have fingertips graze stone of ancient castles.

I vow now that

One day I’ll go.

Vignette One

Lucia Bailey

ISSUE NO. 1 • To Have a heart

I wrote this piece because it was something that stayed with me for a while. Every time I wrote a new piece, I couldn’t help to think that I needed to write this one. I like to think it shows the simple beauty of human contact.

His thumb slides over your knuckles in a slow, steady pace. You didn’t know that you needed this, secretly wished for it when he wasn’t there. Another pain comes in your stomach and you groan, his grasp simply tightens.

“Look at me,” you force yourself to meet his gaze, “focus on my hand.”

Such a stupid thing to say, you think. What the hell is his hand going to do? You do it though and you listen as he talks about his day and this bastard new co-worker and how his boss made fun of his tie. About half-way through you telling him about your day, you recognize the pain has subsided.

“Hey, the pain is gone,” you say and he picks up your hand and his lips graze your fingers.

“Human contact reduces pain.”