I ate my first raw peanut a few months before we left for Sudan. I was taken aback by its beany-ness. It is a bean, not a nut. I had known that, been told, “It’s a part of the legume family.” But in my mouth for that first time, it was transformed. Peanut. Pea-bean....
Fifty years married, devoted to Jesus and family, Mom and Dad had remained your protectors in spite of your adult status and incessant lying, your manic highs and pitiful lows. January, 2010 Fifty years married, devoted to Jesus and family, Mom and Dad had remained...
The honourable mention in Room's 2012 creative non-fiction contest, judged by Kathy Page. Part Five: Beginning His eyes are dark and warm, like hot chocolate, and his movements are punctuated and full of life, like a baby Charlie Chaplin. His new lips feel strangely...
The honourable mention for Room's 2011 creative non-fiction contest, judged by Susan Juby. You arrive at Bjorn's going away party dressed in a neon green sequined bustier and pleather shorts with tassels, purposely outrageous for added courage. The bass throbs through...
I never expected there would be music at this funeral. Let mortals beware Of words, for With words we lie —W. H. Auden, A Hymn to the U.N. I never expected there would be music at this funeral. Before Eric begins, he apologizes to the thirty of us gathered in the pet...
It was a day at the dead end of February that showed all variations of the colour grey: ashen branches stripped of leaves, cement-coloured clouds, steely frost, the opaque pane of ice under my feet, a window into the river translucent enough to suggest its gunmetal...
Our water flows from an unnamed, underground spring. It flows downward from a point about a kilometre north-west of our home. Our water flows from an unnamed, underground spring. It flows downward from a point about a kilometre north-west of our home. We share the...
I am standing in the middle of the ragged highway that passes my home when a wildlife officer offers me a seagull egg sandwich. The road winds its way northeast from Yellowknife for seventy-five kilometres, then just ends. If you don’t heed the giant stop sign, you’ll...
The north sea speaks carefully around a mouthful of flints. ~ The beach is a buzzard feast, salted carnage. Miles upon miles of razor clams, caught by the headland, butterfly open under a cacophony of gulls. This is not the image you had held of this place, but it is...
The honourable mention in our 2009 creative non-fiction contest, judged by Deborah Campbell. Some men go through a transition stage in their mid-thirties, settling in or moving on to something or someone new. For women, it's earlier. By their thirties they've...
ROOM 47.4 FULL CIRCLE
Step back with Room into the past, to parents, to childhood homes, and to people once known and loved; dig into themes of grief and healing; and ultimately explore what it means to come full circle in literature.
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