Paul never liked the refrigerator. His husband had been the one who wanted stainless steel. “But fingerprints wipe right off this one,” he explained when Paul pointed to an eggshell model across the showroom. The refrigerator had drawers for everything… Continue Reading
Her menu was written in Helvetica. The standard black font paired against off-white paper in a contest of monotony. Cleverly named breakfast options and well thought out puns added colour to the menu choices. She debated between the aptly named… Continue Reading
I keep a baseball bat under my bed. It’s not a genuine Louisville Slugger, carved from Northern white ash, but it’s polished smooth and when I crept across the outfield to claim it from the equipment shed last week, it… Continue Reading
It started out with a scribble. As she dragged a blue crayon across a crumpled sheet of white paper. The messy scrawl was an abstract piece. But like all art, it was a mark from the artist — I am… Continue Reading
I’m alone at the beach. The sky is grey and the sea is blown-out mush. I walk where the sand is dry and scan for sea glass. I scoop up some shards of brown, a few white and one that’s… Continue Reading
“Kanagawa. Next stop, Kanagawa Station.” It’s the same every morning at 9:42am. I glance up at the announcement, waiting for the subway doors to slide open with a whoosh. A handful of people get off, but only the foxes get… Continue Reading
When I crooked my neck to check on my six-year-old daughter Maggie, I found her standing in the aisle near a tidy swim trunk display. She peered up through curls of overgrown bangs at a young male mannequin. His fiberglass… Continue Reading
Sarah saw Pri in the reflection in the window. She didn’t want to talk to anyone — this was her break. Time to herself. Time to relax after furiously catching up with emails, and before getting stuck into whatever primary… Continue Reading
He turned a corner in the Big Barn hardware and saw a woman at the far end of the aisle gawking up the skyscrapers of faucets, basins, and vanities with an open-lipped smile so shocked with delight that he stopped… Continue Reading
Momma homeschooled. I’d kneel in the back seat of our Buick on a carpet of fast food wrappers counting the contents of the trunk. This was Momma’s version of education, having me remind her what we had in our stolen… Continue Reading