I’ve seen Celine Song’s Past Lives (2023) five times, and I can’t seem to stop thinking about how it gorgeously captures immigrant desire, how it renders our experience of looping …
“You’ve got to line up there.” The airport attendant pointed at a flock of people waiting to check in. We were the late bunch, the timid rebels who didn’t arrive …
When Jon called two miles from the border crossing, Aria nearly threw the carrot slices for her stew into the bin. She stayed her hand just in time and put …
It was always easier to cut through the old landfill. The dump, which had been rechristened Euston Park, was converted into public green space half a century ago. Beth tried …
You wouldn’t think something I do every month would be such a big deal. But it’s a dreaded chore — every bloody time. Tonight, as the appointed hour draws near, …
The stone remained cold and silky gray in the boy’s palm. He was in the middle of a procedure that many in the village had seen performed and found nothing …
It happened because I looked poor today. My mother was an elegant woman, even in the most undignified chapters of our life in America. She said that spending her youth …
To make rice in a pot, as opposed to the trustworthy rice cooker, is difficult; but not impossible. As my father once taught me: stick a finger down to the …
“The future will be fine,” my next-door neighbour said through her mask as we ended our brief conversation at two-arms-length distance on a garbage collection day in April. “Stay safe!” …
When I was young and living above the Panama Cafe, I yearned to go to the Canadian National Exhibition on Labour Day weekend. The CNE was a fabled place of …
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