Memory of a Face I Once Saw from My World by Bari Huie 8 min in Markham, ON She felt his eyes on her, but she kept hers lowered. Aimee didn’t want to break the connection, she knew if she looked up he’d disappear behind the stack of books at the counter. The Read more…
Detroit, a play by Lisa D’Amour 8 min in limbo “Remember the play about the expensive book that the woman hurled on?” Sandra’s eyes hardened to green glass. It made Dennis think about his marble collection he had when he was a kid. She was mad. He had done it again, Read more…
Esquire Party Book by Editors of Esquire with Scotty and Ronnie Welch 8 min @ the desk Anna couldn’t make tea and she called un-toasted bread ‘raw’. Mitchell would be there in twenty minutes, there was no way the “meal in thirty minutes” recipe was going to work out. Her Read more…
Little Beeby Chris Cleave 8 min @ Sunnybrook Hospital, Parking Lot Mr. Fussbender was a man of habits, deeply ingrained habits that made for a smooth running life. For the past fifteen years every morning began with two slices whole grain toast with Earth Balance spread, one soft boiled egg, Read more…
The Loves of Shakespeare’s Women by Susannah York 8 min @ HUB coffeehouse & locavorium He held her hand in both of his, rubbing the ‘Venus mound’ with his broad thumb. He told her this was what the fleshy part at the base of the thumb was called. He told her 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…
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley 8 min @ Litttle Nicky’s Every morning. Like clockwork. Literally. Maris would rise at five thirty. He used an alarm. Had too, because of the insomnia. But he had to keep consistent or he’d lose his spot. Five thirty five: cold water on the Read more…
So many voices. So many voices inside my head that when I was ten I worried I’d inherited the crazy gene. I had heard the stories about the crazy aunt in Jamaica. I had my own memories of her, so faded I had to squint to remember but the craziness was Read more…