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 »
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 »