Halloween night 1955: a Volkswagen Beetle hit nine-year-old Erika on Decarie Boulevard, corner Monkland Avenue. Notre-Dame-de-Grâce borough.
In my grandmother’s garden there was a stunted, knuckled tree near a ramshackle bomb shelter, a sheet of corrugated iron curved over a shallow hole.
Illustration by Andres Garzon In 2010, I moved into a place that nobody in their right mind […]
Illustration by Andres Garzon I was raised on a farm just outside a village nestled like a […]
Illustration by Andres Garzon They killed the boy. Not a they, but a single person. ‘They’ is […]
On Wednesday, I watched her steal a daylily from my garden.
On the cusp of teenagehood, I was increasingly preoccupied with a search for the elusive Cool, and suspected that this exciting, slightly nauseating sensation in the pit of my stomach was it.
When she puts them in, I become an advisor, an educator.
Baseball was his first love.
The hypnotist’s voice is a glacial lake: smooth, distant, cold, and piercing.