Non-Fiction

She held on, the nurses marveling at her tenacious strength. They declared that she was not letting go quite yet.

Anticipation is vulnerability. The looking-forward to small pleasures was getting him through these dark days of lockdown.

Marrying the kindest man you’d ever met still felt like a caging, only this time it was you who turned the key.

These days in every direction I look, the world is falling apart. Fires and floods and extreme temperatures. A global pandemic. Almost 100 million refugees in the world seeking safe haven…

I mourn for the words of nobodies who had vital lessons or exceptional stories to tell, but they died, and their words were never found.

I am hugging a tree, grounded with roots descending deep into the earth, blood as sap circulates and nourishes my body.

There once was a boy named Max. Not just an ordinary boy, but a boy who could fly.

As your elder’s trunk snapped, you turned and ran, like a terrified child unsure which way the sky was falling.

I remembered you on stage in Montreal with your guitar. How could you have picked up that gun?