Mom’s cornmeal porridge was just the way I liked it, but even that couldn’t fill the pit in my stomach. Ginga held onto me so tight the morning before the trip, I wondered if she thought she’d never see me again. Mom was strangely talkative, not that she’s so quiet,...
Rain for days. Weeks. One atmospheric river after another. Inside a basement apartment, and out of the unrelenting rain, houseplants were light starved. Thirsty. A twenty-year-old spider plant had shriveled and resembled a parched wig. A woman bowed over it, pinched...
While waiting by the luggage carousel with Joe at Toronto Pearson, I spotted Sean coming out of the men’s room dressed like an undertaker. It was near the end of the pandemic; no one would bat an eye seeing a traveller clad head to toe in black, his low baseball bill,...
