‘The Tablecloth’ by Shawne MacIntyre Grandma’s old house on Drummond Drive held much more than family. Like all homes, it held moments of joy and of belonging. Like all homes, it held whispers, strained decisions and the ghosts of consequence. It was the winter I … more » Continue Reading
‘On Dissidence’ by Joanne Leow The net that presses against your skin, made from thin, steel fibres leaving an imprint only when you push up against it. We have spent most of our lives, unaware of its existence. If I worked quietly with a cutter … more » Continue Reading