Creative Non-Fiction

My Conversion to becoming a Writer

At eight I was a devout little girl that swallowed hook-line-and-sinker what I was taught in my parents’ small congregation of ultra-Christians. By age 12 I had lost all belief in fairy tales including … Read the whole text

 
Toronto Haunting

You really don’t know if you’re being haunted until you stare a ghost straight in the face. Everything becomes pretty clear at that point. Beforehand, it’s just a series of weird coincidences, shadows stalking you while you … Read the whole text

My Home and Native Plant 

I’m not your garden variety Canadian. I don’t own a Hudson’s Bay blanket. I no longer attend hockey games. I’ve stopped being overly nice and polite. And I gave up my citizenship when I … Read the whole text

Broken

I cannot remember when we stopped touching each other.  It began when mother left with a gash on her head. And older sister could not wear mother’s shoes. Laughter ran away from our mouths and the smell of cocoa … Read the whole text