“You’re late, Isaac.”
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.
At five o’clock that morning, like he had done every morning, Ibrahim Delgado woke to the sound of screeching roosters.
Illustration by Andres Garzon In 2010, I moved into a place that nobody in their right mind […]
Illustration by Andres Garzon Chained-up whimpering farm dogs, Brexit signs, and lucent yellow fields slowly disappeared. Hedgerow […]
Illustration by Andres Garzon “I kept thinking how marvelous it would be if I could somehow tear […]