Justina Elias

Justina Elias

Every Night Like New Year’s Look, my father says, we’re twins, and the nurse laughs once, loudly, then blushes. Sorry, she says. You two are just too much. Right down to the boobs. He pokes his left one through his Corn and Apple Festival t-shirt and she pokes him in...
Erin Gallagher-Cohoon

Erin Gallagher-Cohoon

Dads in Dust I know these skin cells are dead, like you are, but they are still here. And you are not. I. “Half the beauty of the world would vanish with the absence of dust,” wrote British scientist Alfred Russel Wallace in 1898. (You vanished.) He meant it quite...
Conor Kerr

Conor Kerr

When The Lights Go Out I used to walk across the top of the High-Level Bridge, hundreds of feet above the North Saskatchewan River and dream about what launching myself off would look like. Granny told me a story once about her brother who did just that. But he got...
Shane Neilson

Shane Neilson

Let Us Be Honest With One Another: to the Child With Disability Red crayon. Daddy credit card. Remote control. Wavy flower. Sit mower. Snake. Bean chair. Medicine. Poop. Fairy tales are a standard means of instruction for children. But then there might not be anyone...