I always knew Elliott would leave. I was never under the impression I got to keep him forever. And besides—I’m not that kind of selfish. Sometimes, it almost felt like I should have chased him away early. Kept him from wasting his time on me. “But what do you get out of this,” I’d ask […] More »
I went over to the house the day after Ma told us her news. Vietnamese folk opera was playing in the background, familiar tales of love, betrayal, and misunderstandings. These lyrical tones and string instruments made up the soundtrack of my childhood. I pulled off my waterproof boots and hung up my puffy faux fur-lined […] More »
Sometimes Sam got words stuck in her head. Tonight she was repeating to herself the phrase, unwaxed thread—unwaxed thread—… The on-call room smelled like two decades of coffee breath. She slipped past its heavy door, her eyes protesting the quick adjustment from the bright fluorescent of the hospital corridor to the on-call room’s dim bulb, […] More »
Nookaa starts her new job in seventeen minutes and still decides to take some time deciding what androgynous items of clothing to wear, responds to a text from her partner to “talk” later that day, and also reminds White Boy #326 where the closest movie rental place is, right on Commercial Drive. In the cab […] More »
The Graceville Motel stands thirty feet from the town’s main road. Its lime-green siding has faded. Swirls of dirt frame the white doors. I can see marks where someone attempted to wash them; whoever it was never bothered with the edges of the doors. It’s like they scrubbed down the middle and said, “Close […] More »
Meet This Magazine‘s new Poetry Editor, David Ly, and Fiction Editor, Jenny Ferguson. Jenny Ferguson is Métis, an activist, feminist, auntie, teacher, and accomplice with a PhD. She is the author of Border Markers (NeWest Press), a collection of linked flash fiction narratives. Jenny believes writing and teaching are political acts. David Ly is a […] More »
Je m’appelle Reynaud. My mother named me. She was French. Other than her, I have never met anyone else who was French. No one else in this city is French. I don’t recall ever meeting my father. I am alone in a dead city. There are no more people here. People do not live in […] More »
Aunt Hwie, (like we) was, I learned, aunt Hoei (like oui) was bibi Hoei to me and The Thian Hoei (like thé, tiens, oui) Father, took Joseph in English, is Sioe An (like Sue Ann), is bapak to me, & we spelled her name wrong repeatedly. Uncle, took Joseph in English too, is Sioe Siet […] More »
Listen to music too loudly / Sing along to songs I don’t know the lyrics to / Get stoned and turn into a fiery ball of Love / Kiss my best friends square on the mouth / Drink water, gotta stay hydrated / Hate everything I write / Love everything you write / Sleep off […] More »
A fleck of topsoil found its way onto Paloma’s middle finger. She rolled the dirt back and forth against her thumb, examining what was left of the cactus her mother delivered a few weeks before. Something for you to nurture, the note said. The crisp cursive script was centred on the scrap of a pharmacy […] More »
You still didn’t feel comfortable drinking in front of your parents. You texted “bless you” to Vikas, as he received your drink from Sumeet Uncle at the open but not self-serve bar. You then said the same words out loud when the cold glass met your sweaty palms. Vikas was your best friend and a […] More »