Some nights, home by myself, I watch The Trauma on TV. I don’t even watch it, really, just leave it on in the background as I put away dishes, spray the countertop, wipe down the edges of things. At the end of each evening, I tell myself, it’s not a good movie. The sloppy jump cuts, the pickaxe motif, the soundtrack of car doors … Continue reading ‘The Trauma’ by Eve Ellis