SAFEFIELD

“How could this be happening?” “As I said, it’s a field, not a shield.” “But in the advertisements it looks like a shell of light around the guy’s house.” “Yes, I’m aware of the commercials, Mr. Alderson.” “The tree just disintegrates, doesn’t even touch...

CRICKET SONG

I keep a baseball bat under my bed. It’s not a genuine Louisville Slugger, carved from Northern white ash, but it’s polished smooth and when I crept across the outfield to claim it from the equipment shed last week, it fit handily in my...

ANGELS SING

Shortly after she turned 70, Celeste discovered that she was suddenly, remarkably, no longer allergic to cats. “This happens,” her allergist said without resentment or skepticism. “We can’t explain it. Probably has some relation to a change in hormones.” Her husband had been a...

LIFETIME WARRANTY

Paul never liked the refrigerator. His husband had been the one who wanted stainless steel. “But fingerprints wipe right off this one,” he explained when Paul pointed to an eggshell model across the showroom. The refrigerator had drawers for everything from vegetables to meat...

KANGSHUNG

Hello. Please… sit. Relax. See? The snow’s not so bad a seat. How high have you climbed? You don’t know? Well… neither do I. When did you start? You don’t know? Well… it doesn’t matter now. What a wonderful view. I’m glad I brought...

LIFE IN HELVETICA

Her menu was written in Helvetica. The standard black font paired against off-white paper in a contest of monotony. Cleverly named breakfast options and well thought out puns added colour to the menu choices. She debated between the aptly named Holy Crepe! or the...

THE COLLECTOR

Inside the poem was safe and quiet, but the word knew its time was limited. Even here, amid the heady chaos of surrealism tinged with psychedelia, staying still for too long could be fatal. Peering out from between two random anapaests, the word couldn’t...

BLURRED

The chain rattled against the door as it swung open, revealing the matted green carpet and mustard bedsheets. Lights above the two queen beds filled the room with a steady hum, casting a dim glow against the faded and stained wallpaper behind them. “After...

SCRIBBLES

It started out with a scribble. As she dragged a blue crayon across a crumpled sheet of white paper. The messy scrawl was an abstract piece. But like all art, it was a mark from the artist — I am here. When she grew...

REMEMBER

You’ve come here to see— To see. To see her. That’s right. Ethel. Your wife of sixty-six years. You remember her: hair that was always in rollers, an apron knotted around her waist even though she stopped baking once she became ill, who put...

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