by Nicole Chin
In a world terrorized by a mysterious criminal organization that recruits children as its foot soldiers, a boy reflects on the journey - steeped in a cocktail of friendship and fear - that has drawn his life past the point of no return.
I MADE A KID cry last Thursday. On the sidewalk, when I was coming out of the hospital. He was this cherub kid with a cloud of blond hair. What’s worse was how happy he was. His dad had him on his hip, talking to the kid about the zoo or something with animals. Zebras and orangutans.
The kid took one look at me and started to cry. And I mean cry. Like the buckets of snot and drool followed by a good half an hour of hyperventilating kind of cry.
Then his dad crossed the street and I stood there patting the eye bandage that was stretched across my face. I thought maybe he was crying because I had started to bleed again, which meant I’d have to go back into the hospital and get someone to help me, make sure I wasn’t bleeding out of something important like an artery or a vein or something brain-related.
People around me at the stoplight made a big effort not to look at me for too long. They glanced over and then made sure they didn’t look. I don’t know if that’s better or worse than the kid crying.
GREG STABBED ME ABOVE the eyeball with a plastic spoon. The handle of it. I had forgotten to fill the car’s tank, so he took a spoon from the fast food bag sitting in the front seat and rammed it into my head. It was his twenty-sixth birthday. The birthday thing is more important to know than the spoon thing.
This was after he told me about his run in with Tarek, the guy he beat up in the back stairwell of the university library, the one that’s all cement, the one where all the students go to fuck. I know this because Greg told me that when he was grinding Tarek’s face into the mesh metal screen underneath the banister, he spotted a used condom.
“Makes sense right?” Greg said. “Studying’s stressful.”
I don’t know why Greg said this; he never made it past grade ten.
about the author
NICOLE CHIN is the author of the House of Anansi Press Digital Short, “Shooting the Bitch”, which received the McIllquham Foundation Prize for best original short story. Her work has appeared in Joyland Magazine and others. She has been long-listed for the House of Anansi Broken Social Scene Short Story Contest and was the recipient of the Helen Richards Campbell Memorial Award. She is a graduate of the MFA in Creative Writing program at the University of Guelph and is currently working on a novel.
from the library
In the rugged Nepisiguit River region of northern New Brunswick, two hunters face off. One is local sports lodge employee Danny Knockwood, a Mi’gmaw guide with a withered hand. The other is Mui’n, a one-eared black bear battling his inexorable hunger. When Danny is charged by the lodge owner to hunt down the bear that is frightening guests at the salmon pools, his personal values come into sharp conflict with his commitment to the task. The resulting confrontation tests both his physical strength and his beliefs, as Danny begins to recognize a kindred spirit within the fiercely determined bear.
A hybrid travelogue and memoir that pieces together the fragmented recollections of one woman’s rocky journey toward vegetarianism. From her rural upbringing in francophone Northeastern Ontario to exotic locations, outlandish adventures, and bizarre meals, Julie relives her struggle to make the right food choices for herself and examines the consequences of her decisions.
In the Afternoon
by Laure Baudot
Catherine wants what Richard has: a richly decorated house, and a perfect, lavished-upon baby. Catherine also wants Richard: a disaffected diplomat whose true passion is for cinema. But Catherine is only the babysitter, and her envy—and its fallout—come to the fore when Richard is accused of a crime, and she must decide whether to help exonerate him.
“Laure Baudot’s prose is exquisite, patient, and sophisticated. In the Afternoon immerses you in the fascinating and complicated mind of a babysitter who is wise beyond her years, yet dangerously impulsive at the same time. This story is irresistible and heartbreaking.”
— Sarah Selecky, author of the 2010 Giller Prize–shortlisted collection This Cake Is for the Party
Toronto in the twenty-first century: At night, a beacon on a lonely ancient lake, a drainage pond from the last ice age. In the daytime, a bulwark of glass, glinting in the radiant sun. Joe, Mary, and her cat, Sam, sit in a lakeside condo, trapped by a crazed, mysterious sniper. What has become of their lives? What has become of their city? What has become of their century? As the situation begins to unravel, Mary finds herself wondering, “What would Margaret Atwood do?”
Decades ago, when bands like the Everly Brothers rode the airwaves and vacancy signs shone like beacons in the night, a young man gets his first taste of love, loss, and the ethereal satisfaction that comes with knowing that the world is turning and life is being lived.
by Kayt Burgess
When Blanche first began singing, she was humble, eager, willing to work, willing to learn. Now she is headstrong, condescending, unprofessional, and just a tiny bit full of herself. She is also the closest to genius that Antoinette, her accompanist, may ever have a chance to work with.