Victoria Dougherty

The Beauty of Rotting Fruit: On Writing Body Horror

In first grade, at recess, I watched a girl in my class peel a big scab off her knee—actually reopening the wound—put it in her mouth, and chew. She didn’t know I was watching. When she looked up and caught me, she just kept chewing. Held my gaze. Didn’t stop. It was a little awkward, but neither one of us could tear our eyes away....

The Beauty of Rotting Fruit: On Writing Body Horror In first grade, at recess, I watched a girl in my class peel a big scab off her knee—actually reopening the wound—put it in her mouth, and chew. She didn’t know I was watching. When she looked up a…

Nobody Knows Anything

Yesterday, we had a flurry of missile activity after twelve days of relative peace. With the deadline for Iran to open the Strait of Hormuz looming, we went to bed unsure of what we’d wake up to. Both my husband and I were so depleted that we slept through the grating emergency alert that came through our phones at three in the morning....

Nobody Knows Anything Yesterday, we had a flurry of missile activity after twelve days of relative peace. With the deadline for Iran to open the Strait of Hormuz looming, we went to bed unsure of what we’d wake up to. B…

I miss him, but he’s being treated so well!