By Eden Andrews
In an effort to escape, I had run a bath. Shortly after, you opened the door. As if you were trying to move molasses. I couldn’t look at the burn in your cheeks or wonder how your clunky knees must be feeling on the tiled floor. Leaning on the side of the tub, you looked like an aged man, who had only lips and a nose.
Read MoreBy Carol Krause
Another email from the queer social group appears in my inbox. I am invited to skate with a group of strangers. I do not open the message. It will be too much for me, this gathering of fingers and eyes. I may get dazed. Or I may drown in the clattering of voices, temporarily losing my grounding in the so-called “real” world.
Read MoreBy Khashayar Mohammadi
I arrive at the station, disembodied. I’m brimming with images. I walk into the house. His house. Filled with mourners. A hall to welcome the black vested with cheese platters. The utter horror of being haunted by too many ghosts to keep track of in a line of sight. The panic of forgetting.
Read MoreBy Caitlin Stall-Paquet
Captain Cécile Hauchecorne parked her Zodiac boat at the dock in L’Anse-Saint-Jean, a village of just over 1,200 on Québec’s Saguenay Fjord where granite-faced mountains plunge deep into frigid waters. After I stepped onto the vessel, she handed me a waterproof orange jacket and overalls, a beacon in the grey morning.
Read More
