He was just looking for a place. A place to put his hat, as they say. A place to kick off the old shoes for a while. Just for the winter. Didn’t have to be long. He just needed the quiet. The alone time. A break. So they pointed him up the road, those whoContinue reading “The End of the Road | Pt 1”
Category Archives: Fiction
The Boy in the Water
A man stands at the water, the boy in his reflection lapping waves at his feet. But the man does not look down…
Bait and Twitch
There’s dirt, and there’s grime, and then there’s whatever lives beneath the cracked-claw fingernails of Arnold K. Sprouse, the fat man who everyone was sure had been a child at some point, who forever twitched or itched at the boils beneath his skin. Worse yet, Arnold was the kind of scrounging sort of thing thatContinue reading “Bait and Twitch”
Spill
A while back I had the honour of having both a short story and a small book review published in the inaugural issue of The Bolo Tie Collective‘s annual anthology. While the book review takes a lighter approach to a local author’s short publication, the short story below casts a dark shadow on Edmonton’s 104th Avenue,Continue reading “Spill”
The Artist’s Lot
“…round…around…around…red, on black, on blue…” The old painter-woman pauses, her attention listing to the juicy black fly that buzzes around the sweltering, wallpapered room where she lay. She does not watch the fly—cannot, in her growing blindness—but lolls with it, following the sound as it moves from the outer edges of the room’s damp wallsContinue reading “The Artist’s Lot”
Jessica Barratt 