Katherine Bodger
Bio
I’ve always loved to write. Whether or not I’m any good, well, that’s for others to decide.
Stories (26/0)
Torturous Way To Live
Death by a thousand cuts, burning alive in the brazen bull, being slowly impaled by fast growing bamboo, being broken on the wheel, ripped apart limb by limb by horsemen— she could say with confidence that those all would have been better than this. After all, the dead only have to suffer temporarily.
By Katherine Bodger12 months ago in Fiction
Dear Evan Hansen
Dear Evan Hansen: a musical that follows a anxious and lonely teen as he’s caught up in a lie regarding a false friendship with another student who committed suicide; a musical I relate to on so many levels I find it hard to keep track. For those of you who are familiar with Dear Evan Hansen, I should note that I am aware that relating to Evan Hansen in any way, shape, or form is not a good thing. Dear Evan Hansen is an interesting musical to me because despite how rare it is to find a sense of relation to every song from a musical, I can easily relate to the entire cast recording.
By Katherine Bodger12 months ago in Beat
It’s Finally Fine.
I felt like I could finally breathe as I stood in the centre of my living room and looked around. If I’d known all it would take to accomplish such a feeling was drop a lit match on the trail of gasoline I poured, I would’ve done it far sooner.
By Katherine Bodger12 months ago in Fiction
My Dead Dad and Musical Theatre
When my dad died, I felt as though I lost every connection to him as I became him. Even though I was wearing his clothes, walking like he did, handing out money left and right to try to match his generosity, and trying to emulate the way he laughed or ate- I didn’t feel like I had anything to grasp onto after he died, no connection to the beloved man I lost. I was hollow, and this continued to be the case until I watched The Sound of Music on his first post-death birthday.
By Katherine Bodger12 months ago in Beat
Emergency Fund
Because he travelled, Dad made sure I knew a three thousand dollar emergency fund was in a box under his bed. Part of me knew he wouldn’t return from his latest trip, and his fatal stroke guaranteed it. Staring at the twenty thousand dollars I found in the fund, I wondered if he knew it too.
By Katherine Bodger12 months ago in Fiction