We burn the needle over a lighter Mimi found in her mom’s purse. Then she lies on her pink sheets, facing away from me as I kneel next to her head. With clean hands I tuck a dry bar of soap behind her ear and poise the needle over the dot she drew. […]
I always knew Dad was handsome. When I was five, I remembered the fluorescent hazy lights of the television flickering before my eyes. I saw people who looked like the kids in my class, and sounded like them. Eing-lish. A language I didn’t quite understand yet […]
In those days, we didn’t really know what vegans were. There were no vegan options at the 7-11, the Fresh Slice, or at Ali Baba’s Shawarma Stop. When Quinn Holmes first explained to us, three sweaty children standing on a street corner, that he was raised vegan, and what that meant, we were horrified […]
Don’t ask me the name of the beach.
I won’t tell you.
I don’t want you to know.
I don’t want you to go to this beach.
I don’t want anybody to go to this beach […]
The seagulls had woken him, but it was the children walking beside him along the shore who took the brunt of his rage […]
When I call my father, I call my mother first. I can hear her bustling around the kitchen as we speak, stomping across the floor with heavy, purposeful footsteps and the phone clutched to her shoulder […]
Shall I tell you a story? […]
I recently read an article about why I should get a nose job. It was written by an illustrious Instagram influencer who had recently undergone the knife[…]
Do you know when you’ve lived with a truth for so long that it ceases to be incredible? Like the “yeah, my dad is Sting” sort, cue gasps and bashful eye roll[…]
My lizard brain knows it’s beer he’s sipping. Instinct. But soon can and person become indistinguishable—metal and beard, the leather face beneath, his stony eyes […]
SCENE 1 An office. DANIEL and OLIVIA sit in opposite cubicles. A photocopier sits to the side of Olivia. Daniel stands hesitantly and knocks on the top of the partition separating their two cubicles […]
I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t remember last night just yet, but I can hear waves rolling in and if I move my hands, I can feel them dragging across sand. The tide laps at my feet. I don’t want to open my eyes, but it seems I don’t have a choice […]
It’s A Joke Nonfiction by Camille Lemire “You know what you’re doing, you … you slutty pirate hooker.” It’s a joke, I pray, instantly applying a Band-Aid to the words Daniel shoots at me from across the crowded house party. The rest of the packed living room vanishes as he watches me watching him
Kilometer 29: my legs are smashing into the pavement. Left foot, right foot. Methodical. Easy pace. Stay relaxed […]
My Grandmother was one of those severe Canadian people that lived through the depression but never really left it. When all the popular girls in my grade were buying hair straighteners she told me that eating my sandwich crusts would make my hair curl in an attempt to get me to finish them. […]