"I didn't panic. I was a strong swimmer. If it came to it, I could keep myself afloat for three hours. If not more. Probably more."
Project Type: Short Fiction
"You wouldn’t know a man drowned here this morning. Probably an out-of-towner, thinks Jackie. It’s always the out-of-towners."
Neal Baker’s Zebra-Skin Rug
"The hair dye, a home job, turned out tackier than she’d hoped, though the package promised a sultry Wine Red."
Playing the Man
"I grip the railing of our second-floor balcony, lean over, and look down. She’s in her garden. Our Lady of the Tomatoes."
"The counsellor called it a normal response to grief."
"It’s summer. My parents are away at a week-long marriage retreat, but I don’t know that."
"The hill plunges under Jill’s wheels. She stands poised over the frame on the pedals, a dart burning towards a target."
"I pop up in bed like one of those inflatable air dancers, the kind used to advertise blowouts at furniture warehouses and car dealerships."
"Southwest of Parliament Hill, the Ottawa River diverts in two streams around Victoria Island, a large chunk of land marooned in the river."
"Today there is a shift: the sun rises one half-second earlier than it did the day before."