A New Kind of Literary Pulse

I sat down. It was at the small square table. The chairs around me were completely empty; and the only thing in the room was me. I continued to wait. Something was supposed to happen — Something ... [+]

I meet her in Starbucks. Starbucks in London. London, Ontario. She's sitting just inside the glass door, on the corner of Dundas and Richmond Street.
Let me take you into the moment. It’s a ... [+]

A tower of packages teetered back and forth in the Bunch family sitting room. Boxes of unusual shapes and sizes were piled high on top of one another, a great beast that hung over the room like a dark ... [+]

Her shoes glare at me as I wait on the couch for him to pour the wine. Though she is absent her shoes fill the room with her presence. Jay and Marina’s apartment is quiet, and lushly decorated with ... [+]

Gordato Paré lost the ocular part of his vision when he was nineteen years-old. Luckily, he had a gift for second sight. He might have been precognitive or maybe even a bit psychokinetic. I neve ... [+]

Before I was born, I wanted to be a photograph. At that time, I didn’t know whether it would be of my childhood, youth, or adulthood. Or of when I am dead. What mattered was that I had a negative ... [+]

A story may seem perfectly ordinary on the outside, but still carries its own meaning; indeed, every journey is unique.
I have started writing this on a cold sunny afternoon of January, in the ... [+]

Allan Krantz walked up the driveway hoping to pick up the truck he’d placed a down payment weeks ago. His brow furrowed.
Old Tomas, sat in the shade of an open garage, his black and white borde ... [+]

Darlene Brash retired early from education. Winning a lottery mega jackpot made that possible. Her friend Marcie Kilpatrick remained in the classroom. Wednesday evenings they met with the Closely Knit ... [+]

I happen to be in a fairly fragile relationship right now. My boyfriend – if I can still call him that - is way too decent and way too kind and way too loving for someone like me. I know I ... [+]

The first time, it’d taken almost 45 minutes and a full bundle of rags to get the grease off the mirror, the twine from the bundle wrapped loosely around his wrist, hand working in ever-widening ... [+]

When you first open your eyes, all you can see is the brightness. You don’t know what it is, but you feel your stubby fingers reach for that light. Pale clouds of cream dot your vision as you ... [+]

The road was filled with ruts and weeds. Whispers from the past could be heard amongst the chirping of birds, the buzz of jumping grasshoppers, and butterflies that dotted the wildflowers.
The ... [+]

We didn’t know he had Asperger’s then. He didn’t, and we didn’t. His parents hadn’t noticed, and what they happened to notice they medicated with anger, and Ritalin.
The late ... [+]

I woke up on my last living day. Early, if you could imagine that. I figured losing a few hours of sleep wouldn't hurt, not today. I made coffee to drink on the porch step while the sun rose. The ... [+]

The word “family” conjures recollections: Thanksgiving dinners, Christmas around the tree, rented summer bungalows by the shore. I have those in my memory. But I have an added image: three o ... [+]

Behind an old building was a girl, crouched in between the alley wall and a dirty, snow-covered dumpster. She was tucked away from the cruel chilling wind. The girl, still just a child, shivered ... [+]

Sitting at the black, wax-encrusted table in the back of the spiritual shop I felt foolish. I had wandered into the front of the store, as I always do when visiting New Orleans, looking fo ... [+]