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I’m in grade eight. I’m 13 going on 14. And D’Arcy is chasing me around all day firing a gun this way, waving a badge that. We’re playing cops and robbers and I think he’s gay, but that doesn’t matter much. If he is a gay cop, he is still a cop. He is still … Continue reading
Formality has never been a strong suit of mine. My essays, rather than suffer from the usual highfalutin fodder that most writers pride themselves on, tend to instead brim with wild metaphors and childish comparisons. Most of them are even littered with jokes here and there. It’s a disease of sorts: the inability to be … Continue reading
My sister was the first to make me think of the moon as something more than a rock. Battling the vicissitudes of prepubescence through boybands and poorly applied makeup, she wrote an adage on her door, “Shoot for the moon, because if you’ll miss, you’ll still land among the stars.” At the time, I was … Continue reading
He breathed in the smell of strawberries as his hand hesitantly swayed beyond the rusty rail. It sat there, somewhere between the breathless infinity of below and above, as his fingers clenched into a fist. In a way, he could feel everything that ever was and everything that ever would be rolling over his knuckles. … Continue reading
The first thing you learn is that you can’t expect things. They won’t text you goodnight. They won’t tell you about their day. Your phone won’t ring no matter how many times you check it. In a way, their memories won’t last either. In two years, they won’t remember that day in the park or … Continue reading
I think it’s better if I just fess up. No more skirting around the issue. No more scapegoats. Just honesty: I’m evil. Pure, unadulterated evil. I know it’s hard to believe that underneath my wide smile and cheery optimism is a beast of carnal malice and rancor. All the jokes I tell are a ruse. … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 