She watched her brother’s lumbering figure walk the half-block from the corner store toward his apartment, barely lifting his feet off the ground with each step. Even from that distance, his sister, Germaine, could hear him mumble and swear about the slippery sidewalk and the slushy wet snow that slowed his progress.
The Holy Father
Margot was eight years old when she first saw God. She was sitting in the Cathedral, her eyes heavy from the incense that burned from the thurible.
Morning Star
Caked in rich mud, it lies in the husband’s gloved hand, plucked from the garden with an accidental carrot and a deliberate handful of weeds. It smells green.
Frozen Peas and Fries
He drops his hands from my hips, grabs a box out of his pocket and gets down on one knee. I want to remember this moment for eternity; I take a deep breath in and slowly close my eyes to cherish this moment.
Pubescent Love
Reflecting on who I was back then, I assume I took Maria for granted, like everything else in my life at that time. That young teenage boy was filled with naïve understandings and confused perceptions.
Train Station
He knew his affectionate touches were annoying Rebecca, like a puppy seeking affirmation. Her shoulders tensed in anticipation when he passed by to put the plates back in the cupboard. When he didn’t graze a finger, her shoulders slouched, and the absence of contact felt worse than if he’d never touched her at all.
Artist Spotlight: Patsy Wisniewski
The featured artist for this edition of HLR Spotlight is Patsy Wisniewski. Patsy is a student in the Visual & Digital Arts program, which is part of Humber’s Faculty of Media & Creative Arts.
Eleven Streams of Water
My bed was comfortable, my face sank into my pillow, my blanket was pulled up to my chin, and I was huddled into a ball knowing tomorrow’s worries belonged to tomorrow.
Hooks
I hoped the feng shui would fix it, but it appears all I accomplished was an accidental workout.
The Magical Realm Between Melodies
There’s danger on either side of me—I’m sitting dead between whatever’s supposed to happen next and what just happened.
I Miss Friends
Two months into the pandemic—one and a half months longer than anyone thought we’d be in this mess—and I had slowly started unraveling.
Just as Capable: How Disparities in the Education System Affect Visible Minorities
How successful would you be if even the person teaching you doesn’t believe you can be?
Grandma’s House
You like Grandma’s house more than you like your own. That’s what you tell your mom even though it probably hurts her feelings.
Calling Out White Coats: The Intersectional Discrimination in Medicine
Being a woman is hard. Being a woman of colour is even more difficult. Being a woman of colour with a medical condition can feel like an impossible existence.
Lost Lake
Lost Lake and its forests occupied such sweet brilliance in Kell’s memories; they smelled of incense and leaf litter and occupied the corners of the cabin like dust motes in sunlight.
Speaking Up About Speaking Up
We cannot wait until it is too late for us, or for someone we know, to become an ally and an advocate.
Why I Stopped Being Vegetarian
In the beginning, when I started to eat meat again, it felt strange. I felt like I was doing something wrong.
What DOES make a teacher?
Being a good teacher is like being a good architect.
Race & Skateboards
It’s like I don’t quite meet the criteria to be in this exclusive club; no matter what I do and what I face, there will always be someone who thinks I don’t belong.
Colliding Realities (in VR)
Recounting each trouble in my life is getting harder and harder to accomplish without breaking down in some way.