My grandmother’s house was full of clocks. They were never wound properly, their haphazard ticking all over the place — a cacophony of irregular mechanical heartbeats — so at any given moment one of them was busy striking or chiming,… Continue Reading
My hands hover above my open eyes. I let out a deep sigh in the hopes that my wife would hurry up so I could get back to the game. I cast a quick glance below at my son, Bobby.… Continue Reading
Kelly met Frank on a snowy night in January because Megan kept her late at Patrick’s bar. “Megan, it’s snowing. We need to go.” “Just one more,” Megan pouted like a kid, her lips full and red. By the time… Continue Reading
The last time Greyson made his wife pancakes for dinner, he glimpsed a fly on the kitchen window and, without thinking, flipped his spatula at it, leaving a greasy square on the glass. At the kitchen island his wife didn’t… Continue Reading
1. Five flowerpots on the patio. All the flowers are dead. Geraniums, petunias, lobelia. I kept forgetting to water them. I think my mind is too full to remember such things. It’s a shame. The flowers were pretty. 2. The… Continue Reading
You may never know my name, but I have yours tattooed across my shoulders. I have tried to accept what divides us; however, I am helplessly pulled toward your half-turned-away face. Your downcast eyes ignore the jeers of the crowd.… Continue Reading
He cried when he was born. Mom had said so. But don’t all newborns cry? Leaving warmth and safety for the cold, bright world? He cried in his cot before going to sleep. Yeah, Mom had told him that, too.… Continue Reading
I was sitting in Café New Orleans on Toronto’s Yonge Street one cool autumn day, watching the foot traffic flow north and south, nursing a coffee, my thoughts diffuse. Except for a young couple sharing a quiet tête-à-tête at a… Continue Reading
“Danny, it’s a well-known fact that a man needs a good watch to have a good time,” my pun-prolific dad had said when I graduated college. For years the velvet-lined box lay buried in the back of a dresser drawer… Continue Reading
Gaz rings and tells me he needs a lift — he’s out near St Andrews and he’s hit a kangaroo with his car. “It’s a write-off,” he says. I roll my eyes and leave a half a can of beer… Continue Reading