Not Loud, But Lasting

Two weeks of witness and small rebellions — August 18–31, 2025.

New to Brittle Views? This space spans grief and mischief, punk nostalgia and quiet reckonings—essays, fiction, satire, and stories that don’t sit still. If you like writing that lingers as much as it lands, you’re in the right place.

I meant to write this recap a week ago, but the second half of my trip back home to the UK was busy with trains, conversations, and quiet places that hold their own memories. Two weeks on, the stories I published feel threaded together by travel and reflection: flags that no longer feel like celebration, poems turned into confessions, Maggie’s steady observations, and a family novel that deepened in hush and heartache.

These pieces carry the rhythm of travel—train windows blurring into hedgerows, benches that remember their sitters, and the way homecoming stirs both tenderness and unease.

Here’s everything from the last two weeks—each piece with its own echo:

Flags as Warnings, Not Welcome

Whose Flag Is It Anyway?

A reflection on how national symbols, once a source of pride, are hollowed out and weaponized. From post-9/11 America to today’s England, flags become warnings rather than welcomes, their meaning stolen not by refugees or immigrants but by politicians profiting from fear. A piece about grief for something you didn’t know you could lose: the simple joy of belonging.

Letters Folded Twice

Unsent [Narrated]

A Flashback Friday that moves from a playful fundraiser—writing poems in exchange for sponsorships—to deeply personal territory. Each commission pulls the author closer to his own unsent letters, until one is finally written, folded, and slipped through a brass slot at the Open Air Post Office. A story about friendship, memory, and the courage it takes to send what’s been held back too long.

Holding On: Cracks and Small Mercies

Chapter Fourteen – Holding On

Emma’s quiet vulnerability deepens in a late-night conversation with David, while Rachel’s exhaustion sharpens into frustration. The chapter lingers in car parks and hospice hallways, where silences weigh more than words.

Chapter Fifteen – Holding On

A fracture between siblings, Emma’s misplaced guilt, and Ralph’s gentle reminder that “trying is enough.” The family’s grief feels heavier, but also threaded with moments of grace.

Maggie B: Noticing What Others Miss

Quiet, With Edges [Narrated]

A stranger shadows Maggie’s footsteps through Lower Tissington. Fig bars disappear, trust begins in small offerings, and Maggie’s own notebook habits echo back at her in unexpected ways.

Unravelled

A rebellion stitched in wool: yarnbombed caricatures of villagers appear overnight, sparking outrage, laughter, and an emergency WI meeting. Maggie notices what others miss—a single thread knotted to a bench, a soft trace of presence left behind.

Together, these posts chart a quieter stretch of travel and writing: benches in Devon, letters that tremble, symbols turned sour, and Maggie’s unhurried witness. None of these stories are loud. They invite you closer, asking you to notice the threads—some snipped, some knotted, some still unraveling.

Thanks for reading Brittle Views.
New chapters of Holding On land on Wednesdays. Flashback Fridays bring a story from the archives, and Maggie B. opens her casefiles every Monday—notebooks in hand, tea close by. If something here resonated, pass it on—share, comment, or just sit with it awhile.