Mary is woken by her two little boys. They are already fighting in their bedroom. She can hear objects crashing, bodies tumbling, chaos coming. *** When Julia wakes up, she takes the sheets and the thin summer blankets to shake… Continue Reading
It was the end of the day in the dermatologist’s office. Only I and another masked patient remained in the socially-distant minor procedure waiting room. When the receptionist summoned a woman to complete paperwork, she called a name that even… Continue Reading
During my previous visit to Houston’s Neurosurgery Center the doctor said the procedure would triple my life expectancy, but I’d forget most things. “Sepia tones,” she said when I asked what memories would look like. “Photographs bleeding color until they’re… Continue Reading
My wife doesn’t understand me. That’s what she tells me, at least every other day. It’s Saturday, and we’re driving our kids Devon and Anna, four and almost six, to the amusement park off Route 53. Emily says, “I don’t… Continue Reading
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but if you were unlucky enough to focus your gaze on my nose you’d struggle to find a single redeeming feature in it. I’ve got nostrils the size of caves,… Continue Reading
It was just starting to get dark when I snuck out of the Pigeon Mafia concert to smoke in the parking lot. I’d been awake for thirty-six hours straight thanks to finals and I was recently off Prozac. The noise… Continue Reading
My neighbour Julie stands in her doorway encased in a dressing gown. It’s pink and quilted but she’s tall and makes it look glamourous, it shows a hint of calf, a nipped in waist. She kisses her husband Tom goodbye.… Continue Reading
There’s a hum of wasps in the air as we run past the picnic area with its cracking benches and scrappy bark to the outdoor gym. The equipment is glossy and painted in calming colours, silver and grasshopper green. I… Continue Reading
How I long for those smoky-blue mountains of Montana. Born and raised in the west, I have an almost visceral hunger for wide open places and the endless sky. I can think I’ve adjusted to the city, this agglomeration of… Continue Reading
His two front teeth shone silver in the sun. They didn’t blind, reflect, dazzle. Instead, they had a soft glow. I couldn’t pull my eyes from them. His name was Royce. He was sixth grade president, always chosen by the… Continue Reading