How to Disappear

by Grace Andreacchi

Move to a city where you know no one, and where you have never been before. Change your name to something unmemorable and banal. When letters come for you, scrawl the word deceased across the envelopes and drop them in the nearest post-box. Disconnect the telephone. Remove all mirrors from the house. Turn your face to the wall.


Grace Andreacchi, whose full catalog is here, was born in New York in 1954, but has lived on the far side of the great ocean for many years - sometimes in Paris, sometimes Berlin, and nowadays in London. Works include the novels Give My Heart Ease (Permanent Press 1989), which received the New American Writing Award, Music for Glass Orchestra (Serpent’s Tail 1993), and the play Vegetable Medley (Soho Repertory Theater, New York and Boston Center for the Arts, Boston, Massachusetts). Her short stories and poetry appear both online and in print journals, including Carolina Quarterly, Calapooya Collage, Eclectica, Poetry Midwest, Sein und Werden, Smith Magazine, From East to West, and Scarecrow. Additional work can be viewed on her website.


Quin Browne said...

1. check
2. check
3. put 'adressee unknown'~less intense

works for me

GM said...

A nice mantra for starting over. I've done it twice. Well, parts of it, anyway. It's refreshing.

Madam Z said...

Okay, I did all that. Yipes! Where am I?

Anonymous said...

Writing "deceased" too often sounds dangerous. But turning to the wall is really sad. Lovely piece.

Margery said...

I liked this. I hope this isn't inappropriate, but readers who enjoyed this might also be interested in "How To Not Get Killed" http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/2007/06/how-to-not-get-killed.html

margery again said...



Anonymous said...

I love it ! Very creative ! That's actually really cool Thanks.