There are some people who know when they are in love, and there are some people who don’t. Jules was the type of person who knew when he was in love. Manon was the type of person who did not
Niska is trying to tell Xavier something from far away, something important. She’s done this before
Long ago, when they were all a lot younger, Zenia stole a man from each of them. Then she died. Now she’s come back. Or has she? There’s more than one kind of ghost
According to Kathleen Winter’s guidelines for composing a short story
According to Sarah Selecky’s guidelines for composing a short story
According to Michael Lista’s guidelines for composing a poem
According to Alexi Zentner’s guidelines for composing a short story
According to Damian Rogers’ guidelines for composing a poem
A suite of poems from The Walrus’s Summer Reading issue
“The last of our kind came into the city tonight”
“You really want to be a frickin’ hoser, eh?”
“Bill Bennett has a criminal record”
“After a week of the snow, the man figures he has a story”
“Something I’ve been meaning to tell you”
“Then he kissed me, and the kiss was like spinach to Popeye”
“I was curious to know which God this man was evoking”
“His dog barked briefly to announce a car”
“What do you think Conrad Black is doing right now?”
New fiction by Lisa Moore, Linden MacIntyre, Rawi Hage, Heather O’Neill, Zsuzsi Gartner, Stephen Marche, Michael Winter, Miguel Syjuco, and Madeleine Thien; with poems by David McGimpsey
