The Last Post

In the Sept./Oct. 2021 issue of This Magazine

Our father, who art asleep

Finalist – The Writer’s Union of Canada’s 28th annual Short Prose Competition for Emerging Writers


I woke with limbs full of wet cement, head woolly and hot, wanting only to go outside and lie down in what was left of the snow along the fence. Instead, I went to see the police, as I had promised to do…”

Long list, The Fiddlehead‘s 28th Annual Literary Contest, 2019

Read it at The Writing Disorder. (CW: suicide)

The Cost of Living

I just got a Visa bill for $894. I don’t remember spending $894, except on pants, because I have to buy my pants at a specialty store. Pants are something one can’t go without. Such is the genius behind the specialty store…”

Read it at The Forge Literary Magazine.


It takes forever for the sun to set in the north in June. When Violet looked up to turn on the banker’s lamp near her elbow, she saw by the clock on the wall that it was already an hour past closing, but she was loath to shut the door on the breeze. She rubbed her eyes but stopped when she heard a car on the highway slow down, pull in to the gravel lot, kill the engine.”

Shortlist, the Carter V. Cooper Award – Emerging Writers category

Available in CVC 6  and in Exile Quarterly. (CW: intimate partner violence, gun violence)

Everyone else

seems to have a badass "my first concert" story, but my first concert was three of the four original Monkees, with Weird Al Yankovic opening.

What was yours?