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She moved through the trees with ease as if it was where she came from—as if she had been rooted and born here. Her long black hair draped gracefully over her dark green cape, and her worn brown boots made the barest of thuds against the mossy floor of the forest. He...
Baby Girl

Baby Girl

I gathered her hair in my hands and attempted the braid she requested. My daughter, now nine years old, was keenly aware of her appearance and valued it. She was particular about colours (bright) about pants (tight) and about jewelry (never too much). To me, this...
A Miraculous Back and Forth

A Miraculous Back and Forth

Because some days, we don’t know where we want to go; we just know we’re not ready to go home. I always landed at her doorstep. She was everyone I had ever known and all of those whom I still had yet to meet. She had eyes that knew, with irises that were...
Women & December

Women & December

I told her I felt better. A week-long, nasty cold had finally abated. “Thank goodness,” she replied. “With all the work we (as women, as mothers) have in December, it’s a very good thing.” Yes, December means ‘more’: more...
Seeing the Man

Seeing the Man

Bending to kiss him goodnight, I whispered: “I love you exactly as you are.” His ten-year-old face relaxed at that. My son—at once gentle, kind, destructive and dreamy-eyed-—held a real depth of feeling behind his cool, blue eyes. The nighttime routine was...
Christmas While Divorced

Christmas While Divorced

I don’t have a podcast episode this week—too much going on!—but I didn’t want to miss my weekly target. So, here is a short story I wrote in 2018. Yes, I’m divorced. And yes, I have friends and family who are divorced. This is not based on any one person’s experience....
You Just Want Attention

You Just Want Attention

I know how this goes, and yet I fall for it every time. I fall for the drama, the who’s right and who’s wrong of it all. It’s so easy to get caught up in the noise and distraction. You just want attention. You don’t want my heart…. This...
The Way He Says Her Name

The Way He Says Her Name

It’s cold, but the wind has died down, so I decide to walk. I stick to the salty sidewalks and avoid ice patches. I want to reach out to my brother, Wes, so I take my phone out and send him a quick text: I did it. I went out, met strangers, and I survived! He...
The Pub

The Pub

The city bus in downtown Niagara Falls is quiet. Tourists take the casino buses. It’s just me, some teenagers and an elderly woman with her shopping basket on wheels. My nerves are in my throat; I swallow them, but it doesn’t work. The tension slides down...
Telling Stories

Telling Stories

There’s a meme out there that says something along the lines of: “I’m always writing a story in my head.” This is my experience. I play out the life around me in my head to understand, to foster compassion. This, for me, is part of the process...