On a sun drenched Boston day my parents died in a car crash. A driver hopped up on crack and alcohol, was texting and driving,…
The bar is dim and smells of fried food. Neon lights glow red, green and blue on the walls. Incandescent lamps burn dull yellow on…
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/43782479″ params=”auto_play=true&hide_related=false&visual=true” width=”100%” height=”450″ iframe=”true” /] Peyton recognized it the first time he heard Tito Salinas play the pieces. When the performance ended, he…
Undraped feminine figure; that is, even if infatuated with brevity, David still insists on putting it in three other words: the female nude. Yes, the…
There is something about these big towns, they allure you, promise you something beautiful and make you chase these hopes and dreams feverishly and then,…
Murthy was a second division clerk in one of the government offices; knowing which one makes no difference because most of them are alike in…
Salim Bouhadi, who used to be the police chief in Tiznit until he left in disgrace, hurried up the dirt road away from the bluffs….
Oh Sinnerman, where you gonna run to? Sinnerman, where you gonna run to? Where you gonna run to? All along dem day Nina Simone –…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Guild of Contemporary Art cordially invites you to meet the artists Cheryl Dobrin Lena Herrschaft Daisy March Saturday, June 10 – 5 to…
“You have to stop being such a doormat,” I tell Samaya Di[1], wiping the display table we used for a quick afternoon snack and throwing…
Miles pressed the up button and brushed a fuzz from his suit coat. Executives and their associates flowed through the monotone, white-collar hum of business,…
The memory was painful. Vivid, so perfectly forged that merely to unsheathe it meant pain. Little things could draw it out. The smell of wet lumber, freshly cut. Maybe a combination of words or a strange pattern of falling leaves. Try as one might, it was an experience that could not be contained. Like water falling, it would find a path through, no matter how hard you worked to stop it. This time it was a name.
It was New Year’s Day at eight in the morning when I looked out the window, hung over and blurry-eyed, to see my neighbour, Ivy…
Homing “So, you like it?” Navin asked Puja as they got into the car. “Mansfield Park…” Puja tossed the name into the air. “It is…
I stepped into the living room of my Uncle Bernie’s modest bungalow near Islington and Bloor. The banana yellow walls of the quaint room gave…