In truth, I’m not a poet. Nor do I, as a rule, pester strangers with chitchat. In truth, I’m not a poet. Nor do I, as a rule, pester strangers with chitchat. And I’m stingy with friendship, keeping it tucked tight to my chest like a baby chick. Not often showing it...
uluka my Sanskrit owl vahana, vehicle of Laksmi sharing the name with a muni, sage uluka my Sanskrit owl vahana, vehicle of Laksmi sharing the name with a muni, sage that term from silence itself uluka a kind of grass sound in grass perhaps uluka the quiver i feel...
The honourable mention entry in Room's 2014 Contest Creative Non-Fiction category. Sitting on the edge of the tub I look at the large, red sore on my stump—the edges of its oval shape roughen in the heat of the shower, small bumps push to the surface. “What do you...
You are the worst waitress in the world. You can’t remember orders, or you write them down so messily that they’re indecipherable. When you try to read them out to the chefs you can’t untangle the scribble, and you have to go back to the table and ask again. You are...
Saul sat almost peacefully staring blankly at the aquarium in the waiting room, watching the neon fish cut their way through the water. When the blonde nurse entered the room, Saul wanted to tell her to sit down. Pour herself a cup of coffee. He knew what she was...
I want to write an intimate close to the heart of the universe poem, one that embraces the simplicity of a flower and the immensity of the sea. –Christine Smart, “The Sounds of the World” This book about life, death, and grieving, infused with extraordinary...
This novel is dedicated to nightmares, and rightly so. The story of Ang, who survives a suicide pact only to find herself at the end of the world, is as dark and lucid as the strangest terrors that befall us behind closed eyelids. Set in Worth’s hometown of Toronto,...
Our 2014 Fiction Contest Honourable Mention. Lost Rain threatened almost every single day that summer though not once did it actually rain—even their relationship felt a menace in this. Things between them were strained and awkward, they felt the air and the heat and...
The honourable mention of our 2014 poetry contest, judged by Sonnet L’Abbé. Wet light hints at the tin roofs of Dawson City squats, the barn-like red wood exterior of the Downtown Hotel. The sky says dawn but my watch says 3. I am coming home from the The Midnight Sun...
Thank you to the more than 430 writers who submitted their work to our 2014 Contest, and and to our esteemed judges: Saleema Nawaz (fiction), Sonnet L’Abbé (poetry), and Sarah de Leeuw (creative non-fiction) who read all the blind entries. Look for the first and...
ROOM 48.3 Rest/Unrest
In Room Magazine 48.3 Rest/Unrest, may you find rest as you engage with profound, necessary unrest.
ROOM 48.2 TRAVELLERS
In ROOM 48.2 TRAVELLERS we reflect, dream, manifest. Join us in these human ways of time-travelling, from infancy to the future, through relationships and into surreal realms.
Seeking members who love literature, events, merchandise, and supporting marginalized creators.
REST/UNREST | 48.3
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Travellers | 48.2
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Wits End | 48.1
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Bodies | 47.3
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Seedpod | 47.2
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Utopia | 47.1
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