The dog days of post-college unemployment had to come to an end eventually. Spencer hadn’t cleaned his apartment in weeks so it smelled like sour milk and marijuana. His father arrived in an Armani suit and spent an hour lecturing… Continue Reading
Silence dripped from the maples in the back yard, drifted down like snow, was stirred by a passing breeze and pooled around the feet of the boy, slowly climbing his ankles, trying to hang on. He shuffled his feet, trying… Continue Reading
He was the first customer of the day. I pulled out my earbud and stuck my phone in my back pocket. Then I checked my tablet to confirm his name. “Hello… Robert?” The man looked up from his seat. He… Continue Reading
Roman Sherwood never expected anything from his drill instructor but glares and open-handed blows. Then came the day of the inspection. Sergeant Musselwhite singled the boy out, directed him onto the quarterdeck, and taught him how to wear a necktie… Continue Reading
Lila heard a sigh on the other end of the line. “How did it happen?” her mother asked. “The usual way,” said Lila. “Lila. You know what I mean. Do you two not use protection?” “Mom. It happened.” “And you’re… Continue Reading
Mom had all but thrown us in the backseat of the station wagon, her rage boiling up front, as we sat in a gathering twilight and watched the Ferris wheel spin its rainbow jewels around the sky. No cotton candy,… 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
Every year at Halloween, Dad would pull out the giant sombrero he’d won once on a trip to Mexico. While we kids would get dressed up, applying face paint, leotards, swords and sashes, to perfect our costumes, Dad would go… Continue Reading
Today was my birthday. My family and friends came for dinner, Charlotte made a cake with those stupid candles you can’t blow out, and then posted a video of me trying to do it, on Facebook. Great gifts, good food,… Continue Reading
When I was nineteen, my father began to talk about dying. “You’ll be the head of the house once I’m gone,” he’d say. “Don’t let those shysters at the funeral parlour take my money. Bury me behind the chicken coop… Continue Reading