Staring to his right, an endless line of terror-stricken faces gazed up at the cold, muddy mound they’d soon be scaling. Turning to his left was more of the same. The wind had finally subsided, but only to be replaced… Continue Reading
We watch the jellyfish, side by side, our shoulders pressed together. We do not speak. We do not move. The jellyfish bob up and down in their tiny tank, so many of them squished together in such a small space.… Continue Reading
Natalie spun in place beneath the carnival lights. “Isn’t this place great?” She narrowly dodged the other people in line. A few of the adults glared at us. “We’ve been here every day this week,” I said. “Some of us… Continue Reading
Grief is an anchor, I think. It traps you in one moment, weighing you down interminably. I think about this constantly. I am thinking of it now, when the phone rings. Mila Gurevic, it says. The number is a jumble… Continue Reading
The epiphany, that affection in my current relationship is unevenly distributed, struck me at about the I-5/405 split. I felt a shaking to the innermost part of my being although, on reflection, it could also have been that “Cammy,” as… Continue Reading
Summer had faded into fall and your heart was heavy as you planned to wrap the bees up for winter. That’s what you told me. “It feels so good to get out in the fresh air,” you said, “and listen… Continue Reading
A gnome, a really ugly one, squat of body, gnarled of face, mean of eye, strolled out from around the carton of milk and jerked the box of cereal away from Sheppard. The gnome stuck his filthy mitts into the… Continue Reading
The morning begins with thin, honeyed light streaming through the blinds and landing on the small square table by the window. It’s the kind of light that softens everything it touches, a light that forgives. The type of light people… Continue Reading
Never give up. That became the family’s mantra, even after the basement flooded with sewage for the third, fourth, fifth time. By number five, old Grandad Uchytil figured it was going to be an annual visitation, a smelly, inconvenient, unavoidable… Continue Reading
“I want something edgy,” says the client. Bloody hell. I’m a hairdresser not a miracle worker, thinks Pauline, running her hands over the bleached helmet of hair in front of her. “How do you mean?” Pauline asks, smiling professionally into… Continue Reading