- To read, click the links below or scroll down.
- Nostalgia by Ariana Potichnyj
- Things Of Which We Are Afraid by Jeremy Hanson-Finger
- Greeting Cards for My Girlfriends by Kate Baggott
Nostalgia
By Ariana Potichnyj
He looked down at his shoes; the wind stung the tips of his ears with its frigidity. It was late October, almost Halloween – her favourite time of the year. He remembered last year, how she pulled on her homemade cardboard plane and threw snakes over her shoulders. ‘Get it?’ she kissed his cheek, ‘I’m Snakes on a Plane! Get it? Get it?’
Of course she was Snakes on a Plane. Only she could have come up with something that ridiculously funny. He had surprised her that year when he walked out in his blue-painted cardboard box, making strange vworping noises. ‘I’m the TARDIS!’ he laughed into their kiss.
“I love you,” she mumbled against his lips, being careful that she didn’t rip either costume.
He brushed her hair back, leaving a soft kiss on her nose. “I love you too.”
He brushed her hair back, leaving a soft kiss on her nose. “I love you too.”
He was glad there was a bench nearby; he could sit and work on the thesis in the outdoors. He found outside to be strangely comforting. They had gone camping once, just a few hours out of town. He took his old sleeping bag from his teen years, the one covered in stitches and patches, and they slept outside that night. He remembered kissing her hair as she pointed up at the sky.
“That star,” she pointed up at the dullest star in the sky. “That star blows.”
He laughed, kissing her temple. “Why’s that?”
“It’s not even trying to look good,” she yawned, curling up closer to him. “It’s like it’s not even trying.”
He laughed, kissing her temple. “Why’s that?”
“It’s not even trying to look good,” she yawned, curling up closer to him. “It’s like it’s not even trying.”
His pen started to shake on the page as the memory came back to him. Keep going, he thought to himself, just a few more minutes here and you’ll be done. The wind picked up again, prickling the tips of his ears. He knew he should have brought a hat. She had always said she’d knit him one, if she ever had the time, the yarn, the needles or the ability to knit. But it was the thought that counted, he figured.
“It’ll have a big poof on the top of it and you’ll look like a cross between a Scotsman and a ninja. Which, if you ask me, is the best crossbreed I have ever heard. I think there should be more Scottish ninjas, don’t you?”
He pulled the blanket over her shoulders. “You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that there could be a ninja in here with a fondness for sheep?”
“Are you a sheep?” he laughed, pulling her closer. “Princess?”
Her snoring was quiet and rhythmic and, in no time, he fell asleep too.
He pulled the blanket over her shoulders. “You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that there could be a ninja in here with a fondness for sheep?”
“Are you a sheep?” he laughed, pulling her closer. “Princess?”
Her snoring was quiet and rhythmic and, in no time, he fell asleep too.
He finished scribbling the last line on the end of the page and put the cap on the tip of his pen. The thesis was done. Finally, after two years, he was done. Brushing off his peacoat, he walked towards her and smiled sadly. “Finished,” he whispered, his hand grazing over the cold, grey stone. “Exactly the way you wanted it, Princess.”
She struggled to keep her eyes open. The drowsiness started to cloud her mind. “I’m so sleepy,” she yawned, her hand clutching her side, her warm blood sticking to her fingers.
“You’ll be okay,” he put pressure on the cut. “You’ll be okay,” he kissed her forehead.
“You’re doing great,” he smiled sadly. “Just stay awake, Princess,” he whispered quietly. “Stay with me, Princess.”
“But I’m so sleepy,” she yawned again. “I think I’m dying,” she laughed quietly, wincing at the pain in her side. “Fucking cars,” she yawned again. “Stupid fucking metal cars.”
“Yes,” he egged her on. “Stupid fucking cars.”
His shirt was soaked with her blood. She loved that shirt – Periodic Table of Elements. He loved what he did, he loved being a nurse. And she never let him forget just how sweet she thought it was.
“You save lives,” she sighed into her textbook. “I’m busy-“ she smacked the open page of the textbook.
“Oh, Princess,” he peeled off his dirty scrubs, tossing them across the room. “You’re doing something just as important.” He walked over and kissed her cheek, laughing when her head slammed into the pages of the book. “Stop that, get your thesis done.”
“This stupid thesis,” she mumbled into the paper. “Fuckin’ stupid thesis.”
“Oh, Princess,” he peeled off his dirty scrubs, tossing them across the room. “You’re doing something just as important.” He walked over and kissed her cheek, laughing when her head slammed into the pages of the book. “Stop that, get your thesis done.”
“This stupid thesis,” she mumbled into the paper. “Fuckin’ stupid thesis.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “I’m going to die.”
“Stop that,” he scolded her, looking up the street for any sign of help. “Stop that this instant. You know who’s going to die?” he kissed her forehead. “That dumb fuck who drove into us.”
“Yeah,” her eyes went wide as she tried to nod. “Oh God,” her breathing slowed down. “I’m so tired.”
“No,” he pressed harder into her side. “Come on, Princess. Tell me about your thesis,” he asked nervously. “Come on, love. Please.”
Nodding slowly, she took in a deep breath. “It’s about soulmates,” she spoke slowly. “And the idea of there being only sixteen personalities in the world, so there’s no such thing as a ‘soulmate’.” She winced, keeping her eyes shut. They felt heavy and she was only resting her eyes, she was fine. “Except I don’t believe that.”
“No?” he asked, patting her face. “Come on, love, stay with me.”
“No,” she turned her cheek into his hand. “Because I found you. And you’re not like any personality I ever studied.” She opened her eyes hazily and smiled. “You’re just mine.” She groaned and shut her eyes tight again; he could feel her breathing slowing beneath his touch. “Don’t you sing Jason Mraz at me-"
“I love you,” he choked out, fighting against his tears.
“I love you too,” she lifted her hand shakily, cupping his face. “I love you so much, so impossibly much.”
“I’m going to kill myself,” she sighed, slamming her forehead off the edge of the book.
“Don’t say that,” he kissed the side of her head, holding up a chip for her to eat. “Please, I see enough of that at work.”
“Okay, but,” she turned her head and chewed on the chip. “If I ever decide to die before this stupid thesis is done, I bestow the burden upon you. Think of it as a child.”
“Labour of love,” he laughed, resting his head on her shoulder. “But okay. If anything happens, which it won’t, I’ll finish this thesis for you.”
She turned her head, batting her thick eyelashes at him. “Will you finish it for me now?”
“No,” he nudged her nose. “You’re not dead yet.”
“Don’t say that,” he kissed the side of her head, holding up a chip for her to eat. “Please, I see enough of that at work.”
“Okay, but,” she turned her head and chewed on the chip. “If I ever decide to die before this stupid thesis is done, I bestow the burden upon you. Think of it as a child.”
“Labour of love,” he laughed, resting his head on her shoulder. “But okay. If anything happens, which it won’t, I’ll finish this thesis for you.”
She turned her head, batting her thick eyelashes at him. “Will you finish it for me now?”
“No,” he nudged her nose. “You’re not dead yet.”
Things Of Which We Are Afraid
By Jeremy Hanson-Finger
Right after, or maybe at the same time, a red fountain burst from her back. It sparkled in the morning sunlight burning through the window so it wasn’t just red, it was orange and yellow and violet. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I didn’t move when she fell forward onto her desk so some of the violet hit me but it just turned brown on my grey dress. The fountain was now a strawberry stain across her notebook that covered where she had written, “fear” in HB pencil. My lesson plan said we were going to talk about fear that day when Andrew shot Ellie and then put the gun under his own chin.
“That was a perfect lead-in,” I said, as strawberry jam spread across Ellie’s desk and stickydripped onto the floor, toward the growing red lake around Andrew. “How lucky we are to have such a powerful example to illustrate today’s lesson.” I leaned on my desk with my hands under my chin. “You were all afraid when that happened. What about it made you afraid, Grade Four?”
Susie put up her hand, then put it down and wiped it on her jeans.
“Yes, Susie?”
“The gun.”
“What about the gun is scary, Susie?”
Susie looked over at Andrew, or what was left of Andrew. His finger still rested against the trigger as if he hadn’t finished the job the first time and was ready to take a second shot. “It’s big and black.”
I wrote on the board:
“Things of which we are afraid:
Big Things“It was loud,” said Jordan.
The Dark.”
I added, “Loud Noises.”
“Andrew’s face,” said Morgan-Lee. Everyone laughed and then stopped. Andrew didn’t have much of a face anymore, just pulp, like the bottom of a glass of orange juice, only red.
“Yes,” I said. “Andrew’s expression. His smile showing all his teeth. That fear comes from our cave-man ancestors who had to worry about big, dangerous animals. Animals bare their teeth to show they are angry. Andrew was certainly angry.”
I wrote “Teeth” on the board, and then “Animals.”
Dylan raised his hand. “Andrew and Ellie were here today and gone tomorrow.”
“What did we say about using clichés?” I said.
“It’s the sign of a lazy mind,” said Amanda.
“Right, Amanda! Do some work, Dylan. Come up with your own words.”
“Andrew and Ellie aren’t here. They were here and now they’re gone.” Dylan lifted his feet from the beige-tiled floor as a trickle of red reached his desk.
I frowned. “Dull and lifeless words, Dylan, but at least they’re your dull and lifeless words.” I flipped a curl behind my ear and added “Absence” to the board. I looked at it for a second, and then turned back to the class. “But it’s more than just absence. Absence is sad but not really that scary. What’s really scary is loneliness. Being by yourself.” I smoothed my dress.
“Death is absence, and death is still scary,” said Louise.
“Yeah,” said Evan. “I don’t wanna be opened up like a china cabinet.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” I said. “What we fear is loneliness, not death. Life is transient and death is just ceasing to exist. It’s just like sleeping. There’s nothing scary about sleeping. It’s just turning off. It’s not painful. But loneliness is painful. Imagine how Ellie must have felt when none of us lifted a finger to help her after Andrew said he’d open her up like a china cabinet – how utterly, utterly alone as the buckshot swarmed towards her. Imagine how her parents will feel when I call them after the recess bell rings. You know what? Fuck Ellie, imagine how alone Andrew must have felt when Ellie said what she said yesterday and how very alone he must have felt to shoot her and then shoot himself. Loneliness is worse than death, Grade Four.”
“Death is still pretty bad,” said Evan. Ellie’s blonde hair was now a gorgeous auburn.
“If only you knew,” I said. “If only you knew. Ellie and Andrew are so very, very lucky.” The gun was a black whirlpool sucking on my eyeballs, the spatter on the wall a map of the Promised Land.
Greeting Cards for My Girlfriends
By Kate Baggott
After the Break Up
I’m sorry you’ve been dumped.
Knowing how great you are, how hurt you are
Knowing how much you deserve happiness,
Gives me great hope for your future
With someone better
But still,
I wish I could just kick him in the nuts.
After Surgery
That there’s less of you to go around,
just breaks my heart,
but my grief is nothing.
The local lingerie store has been holding a wake,
they have made a great humanitarian effort
in your honor.
The leftover stock in your bra size
is being used as emergency tents
for the homeless.
Congratulations on a successful
breast reduction!
The Morning After
You’ve been very happy lately
Much easier to be around
You aren’t as jumpy,
Or as prone to outbursts
And there’s actually uneaten chocolate
on your desk
It’s about time you got laid.
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