CNF
Roping It In

Roping It In

“The calm lunatic—now that is something to aspire to.”—Mary Ruefle, “On Fear” I learned to skip this year. I use a heavy, knotted rope that thwacks the ground and burns my shoulders and whips my bare toes raw when I stumble. In the early days I’d walk around with...

Like a Love Story

Like a Love Story

Our 2015 CNF Contest Honourable Mention. It’s my job to iron the napkins. There’s hundreds of them, enough to do two back-to-back weddings in a single weekend, or a three-day golf tournament without re-washing. I don’t mind. It’s quiet down here in the basement...

Soft in the Middle

Read the Honourable-Mention Winning Entry From Our 2015 CNF Contest “Let’s blow this joint!” Dad said, and stuck the key into the Oldsmobile’s ignition. Mom rode shotgun; my brothers and I had all crammed into the back. Popcorn, our shih tzu, panted nervously at my...

French Back-Seat Poetry

French Back-Seat Poetry

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...