“Mm. Morning.” Cass opens her eyes slightly, smiling at me as I tousle her hair. “Morning,” she croaks. “Ugh. Morning voice, sorry.” She rolls to her side, grabbing a glass of water from a stack of plastic storage containers that… Continue Reading
I’m meticulous about the details — the deep, baritone groove of your voice; the lean line of your hip; your abiding love of bad puns; the way you dip your head instead of saying good-bye. These are my favourites. These… Continue Reading
She always thought of brown sugar when her feet sank just an inch or so into warm, slightly damp sand. This sand, this beach was no different. He had asked her to go for a walk and her parents had… Continue Reading
Part way through Act 2 Scene 1, the man next to her says, “Are you a thief? Because you’ve stolen my heart.” “Really?” she replies. “Is that the best you can do?” “I meant it in a post-ironic, hipster kind… Continue Reading
I first saw it on my way to work, shivering in a corner between my building and the next. It tracked me with big brown mournful eyes as I passed. I hesitated, but there was nothing I could do and… Continue Reading
Nick made short work of assembling boxes and filling the office supply orders that had come in overnight. Delivered in twenty-four hours or it’s free was one of Knickerbocker Office Supplies and Fine Writing Papers’ guarantees. The store, an Upper… Continue Reading
On a cold, snowy day in January, as an old song played on the radio, Joe, whose birthday was in September, had more trouble than usual getting ready for school. “Eat your breakfast, son,” his father said. “Today is, what,… Continue Reading
Always wanted to live on the coast, so I come down here in — well, a long time ago — and opened this little bar. And let me tell you, I seen a lot of crazy things in them thirty… 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
You’ve come here to see— To see. To see her. That’s right. Ethel. Your wife of sixty-six years. You remember her: hair that was always in rollers, an apron knotted around her waist even though she stopped baking once she… Continue Reading