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
On an isolated English beach a man looks back on his school days, recalling the joy and torment of a secret love affair with a boy full of strange ideas, a boy obsessed with the language of the King James Bible. Moments from their relationship return to him: the hidden meetings on the beach, the first attempts at sex, the boredom of a school assembly in summertime, the cruelty of a young English teacher. But most of all he remembers the boy’s words. They’re words that, years later, will haunt him as he tries to come to terms with the person he has become.
“Psalm 77 is the type of story that one wants to read over and over, searching for meanings previously unseen. It is laced with the hidden, the secret, the sacred. From the sand dunes and their private longings in school to the verses, the imagery, and the final paragraphs, there is so much to uncover . . ." (Read full review)
— Amanda Miller from shortsundone.ca
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.
Having lived a long, eventful life, Charlie Weinheimer’s only regret is that he has no one to carry on after him. After a near-death experience, he resolves to find out whether a secret buried in his past is proof he has a legacy after all.
“Margoshes gives us the life of Charlie Weinheimer: quadruple bypass patient, widower whose children all die tragically young, but not a whiner. In his hospital bed at age seventy-seven, he’s seen it all, right? Well, maybe not. Watch as Margoshes calls upon his raconteur skills to thicken the plot.”
— David Carpenter, winner of the 2010 Saskatchewan Book Award for A Hunter’s Confession
An imaginative and resonant work of speculative literature from ReLit Award-winning author Darren Greer. Twin brothers, born on an oppressive family farm, discover a miraculous way to escape the dreariness of their lives, charting a course that promises equal measures of wonder and heartbreak.
Marcel, a sensitive sniper, knew his life was missing something. But he didn't know what until he set his crosshairs on it: Violet Caine. A ginger-headed lover of Thai food, wanted dead simply because her brother messed with the wrong bike gang. It's a story of redemption coming too late, and the ways happenstance can turn a warm man cold. Then warm again. Whether fate wrote his troubled life, or he wrote it himself, he wants Violet Caine to be the end of it - be it figuratively or literally.
June's mother is getting married and there's nothing June can do about it. Counting down the days to the wedding while trapped with a sort-of friend and unwanted family-to-be at their lakeside cottage in the Kawarthas, June searches desperately for a way to make the world - and her life - stand still.