December 12, 2024
Our memories are fickle thingsthat time disintegrates;we’re left with snapshots that we stringtogether, weaving lace. The tightest loops play back with ease,releasing dopamine,evoking whiffs of deli […]
December 11, 2024
When I was littleLike the little ones here todayI used to wish that Christmas was everydayCouldn’t wait to see what recitation I had to sayAnd the […]
December 1, 2024
Come, snow!Dance across my window and carry my soul to the heavens.I am so tired of this fight andneed the feel of lace and sweetness across […]
November 28, 2024
My gratitude flows free this morn,for blessings doth abound;from grandparents to babies born,familial love surrounds. An open ear or warm embrace,a laugh or helping hand;we all […]
November 20, 2024
A sharp push made her trip over her long skirt and stumble to the counter. “Go on, Nellie,” her mother hissed. “You serve him.” Flushing under […]
November 17, 2024
On a white May morning, my neighbour, an honourable secretary of our residents’ welfare association, is watering his small outdoor garden with a hose pipe. Among […]
November 15, 2024
Our final special issue of 2024 is here – an issue inspired by submissions discussing this challenging topic of domestic violence. Within its pages you’ll find […]
November 13, 2024
Like a sea eagle perched on the cliff side, there sits a shop on the northernmost point of Kangaroo Island. A hooded figure walks the long, […]
November 5, 2024
My friend lives among numbers. They stand at her door in unwavering lines
guarding and guiding her time. She knows every date in the history book...
November 3, 2024
But the next morning, to her amazement, a stray found its way to her doorstep and into her arms. From that day on, she was convinced of magic and the power of her wishes.
Every year, on the night of her birthday, she’d close her eyes and make a wish at exactly 11:11. It started innocently at first – “Tell me the answers to tomorrow’s test”, “Make me popular at school”, “Jack should ask me out on a date” – and with every wish, she failed to see the repercussions her undeserving victories brought.
November 2, 2024
Faint music blends with a disembodied ringing of a phone and conversations too low to make out a white noise
October 31, 2024
I was 12 that year, and my friends and I dressed up in our costumes and went trick-or-treating up and down the elevators… Every neighborhood has a witch, an old person every kid avoids, out of fear of something we couldn’t exactly grasp at 12. They were so foreign to my Yankees-loving, Keds-wearing self – their thick Yiddish accents, their mouths and ears seemingly oversized for their faces, the women smelling like talcum, the men of spittle and phlegm. But the scariest of them all was Mrs. Pincus, apartment 12B.