Every morning, whether the sky is a cloudless forget-me-not blue or a grayscale thunderstorm, my older brother Davy opens his bedroom windows and takes a photo. On his happiest days, he opens all the windows in the house, as if … more »
It almost didn’t happen. I was on my way to Whitehorse, Yukon to meet my future husband. It was May 1968. Ron Scollon had been planning a trip to Alaska since Black Day in July 1967. They were burning down … more »
The inevitable question I encounter every shift. Clad in a tight black tank top and minuscule skirt, I have a petite build under my work uniform.
I’m 4’11” and have long, dark hair. Strong calves. Chinese and Vietnamese.
I make … more »
Gathered around acrid coffees, Grandpa flips to the obituary section of The Province. Grandma mixes in three creams and honey. A lifetime of thriftiness compels them to split one coffee and top both of their cups up with hot water. … more »
Japanese Cheese was named in the hills above Westsyde where Dad and his friends dirt bike through Ponderosa pines and thickets of sagebrush. Low, rounded mountains encircle the valley in which the city of Kamloops nestles, straddling the confluence of … more »
By Sabrina Mehra Furminger
Published in 16.1
Amrita Bhua’s servant carried the tray of water glasses around the crowded room with the grace of a cat. He was Nepalese and lived with his parents and grandmother in Amrita Bhua’s kitchen; … more »