Pigeon English by Stephen Kelman 8 min on the floor Being conscious her smile had been frozen without any further evolution in the expression, she took a sip of wine. She didn’t know what to say, she hadn’t gotten the joke . Joan was very adept at laughing along, joining in Read more…
Darkness metastasized. Bring more Light. This is an S.O.S. telegram. This is a prayer. This is an order. This could be an affirmation. Or a reminder – a Post-it™ for life. It is hard to see in the dark. That is philosophically self-evident. my shout-out to Julian Barnes. I’m trying Read more…
The Cat’s Table by Michael Ondaatje 8 min on the Ossington 63 southbound I remember the smell most. The sweetly rotting smell of dead. I was eight years old and I knew instinctively when I walked in that something was dead and the something was Bree-Anne’s hamster. I knew too, that Read more…
Lush Life by Richard Price 5 min @ Dark Horse Espresso Bar on Spadina It was a soft sound, barely human sounding. Roger thought not even the smaller human could make a sound so small. Her whisper soft grief echoed in his ear. He cradled her head against his chest and felt Read more…
TABULA RASA I took Latin in tenth grade. I have no idea why, but probably at my father’s behest. I use this word generously. The course wasn’t completely awful, I discovered my favorite phrase and philosophy: Tabula Rasa. A clean slate. I abused the term generously. Mistakes, gaffes and Read more…
I’m sitting on my tailbone, legs splayed, face slack with boredom, but my cells are taught and prepared. I’m holding my breath ever so slightly wondering what the first line will be. Am I going to say it? Is it going to come from her? All I know is that I am Read more…
Every morning, as part of my quest for conscious living, I give thanks that I’ve woken up. It’s a good Jewish thing to do. According to paternal accounts my blood is one-quarter to one-eighths Jewish, but this is just a detail that gets thrown around when we’re talking about the Read more…
No Wednesday post! Again?! The middle of this week was stuffed to capacity, an overflowing of sloppy joe guts in this week’s life sandwich. And the recipe didn’t allow for sides like blogging. It was an interesting day with the voices. They were a chorus of ‘shoulds’. The sane option Read more…