November 6, 2017

“Look at this!”


Spittle rests in the corner of the old man’s white pressed lips. In his sudden rage he tosses
the hospital bed sheets to the floor. Thick fingers grasp at his scrotum, stretching it so that the
skin is a blue spider web of blood vessels.


“Don’t ever let them take your balls. Do you hear me? I let them take mine and what did
it fucking get me? It didn’t get me anything! I let them…I let them take them…I’m going...

July 7, 2017

Grandpa Sid and Uncle Lyle had always been good friends, even though they are related by marriage and not blood. They are strong men, salt-of-the-earth men, built-their-business-from-the-ground-up men. Both lived and worked the stubbled plains of Southern Alberta, a place that leaves your hands dirty but your mind clean.

Uncle Lyle inherited the ranch from his father, my great-grandfather, as a small homestead north of Brooks,...

May 22, 2017

Orange Noodles

3 cups of noodles

½ can of tomato soup

2 tbsp of Cheez Whiz

Boil noodles until soft. Add soup and Cheez Whiz.

        I’d always thought that my parents had a lot of money. We lived in a two-story house on the nice side of the golf course. My friends at school lived on the poor side of town with great trees that stretched their skeletal claws across the streets. My trees were more civilized. They were taller than my...

April 22, 2017

for my sister

Every day you said you were dying. You chronicled symptoms on crumpled bar napkins: achy spine and shoulders, hard to concentrate, everything is loud. You told the girls at work you had to leave because you were sweating into the pixels around you and they scoffed, but they’ve never had demons before.

You went to see a doctor but the place was a hovel. He prescribed pills far too strong for your tiny frame. That ni...

April 22, 2017

I listen to the brothers in the dining room where hotel guests gather and sip weak cocktails out of glasses that drip long fingers of condensation. They sit with their wives and tend to their father, who dines at the head of the table.

In the dining room, their language spills across the room and lands on my tongue. It feels hard at first, cold, but I roll it around my mouth and it tastes how I imagine the colour yellow would.

*

...

April 22, 2017

I’ve been sort of seeing this guy on and off for a few years now. My phone lights up — the little Snapchat ghost trapped in its yellow square.

On.

I swipe it open and watch his square jaw crack out whispered words in a ten second spurt.

Off.

I balance life and death in my right hand while my left hand grips my steering wheel. Front-facing camera: on. Phone tilted to a flattering angle. Ten seconds of over-emoted lip-syncing that F...

April 7, 2017

I told Lyle before he’d even bought the house, “They’re going to widen this road.” And that it would end up as a busy street, “Probably a bus route.” And that the traffic would be loud, “It’s going to make it hard to sleep.”

I predicted all that before he even bought the place.

“There’s no way.” He shook his head and wrinkled the perfect olive skin on his forehead. He put an offer in and the day before his birthday me and him an...

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CREATIVE NONFICTION