Reading Room Archives - Page 50 of 111

The Sculptor

Jun 14, 2012 | Fiction, Reading Room

Amy places the whisker back into the mug of steamed milk and glances over at Kat next to a pile of empty teacups. She sits on the tall kitchen chopping block, sketchbook balanced on her lap. She snaps the book closed and hops off the block. Amy places the whisker back...

The Works of Angels

Mar 14, 2012 | Poetry, Reading Room

I thought we were dead when Dave spread his maps across the wheel and took off his glasses to consult them while his semi careened unchecked down the interstate. I thought we were dead when Dave spread his maps across the wheel and took off his glasses to consult them...

The Game

Mar 14, 2012 | Fiction, Reading Room

I watch Ava peel down her panties. Her ass a kicked apple: Brown. Purple. Blue. She tucks wads of newspaper inside her jeans, zips up, and smiles. “Ready.” I watch Ava peel down her panties. Her ass a kicked apple: Brown. Purple. Blue. She tucks wads of newspaper...

The Constant Variable

Dec 31, 2011 | Creative Non-Fiction, Reading Room

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...

The Red River Whispers and Hums

Dec 31, 2011 | Poetry, Reading Room

The honourable mention in Room's 2011 poetry contest, judged by Elizabeth Bachinsky. There were so many errors in the newspaper obituary that no one knew it was my mother who had died. Momma, who had lived off the river, off the sand and rust-tainted water that fed...

Joseph of Arimathea

Dec 27, 2011 | Reading Room

Joseph of Arimatheais riding the Carleton Street cargrail tucked in a gym bagunderneath the seat.He’s gone so far as to carry itin plain sight.A woman once asked himif he was taking a pottery class.He tried to give it to herbut she didn’t want it.Joseph of...

Little Billy

Dec 27, 2011 | Fiction, Reading Room

“Little Billy died last Sunday,” I tell my father, who’s visiting for a while during my husband’s absence. “Little Billy died last Sunday,” I tell my father, who’s visiting for a while during my husband’s absence. My father snorts. “Just like your mother. You girls!...

All I Can Say

Dec 27, 2011 | Creative Non-Fiction, Reading Room

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...

National Capital Race Weekend

Dec 27, 2011 | Fiction, Reading Room

Numbers safety-pinned to matching blue tank tops, our last name, Fraser, emblazoned beneath them, my sister and I double-check that our shoes are laced tight. Attached to these laces are black chips. These chips will be used to establish our official marathon time,...

A Confession Three Decades After the Fact

Dec 27, 2011 | Creative Non-Fiction, Reading Room

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...