Mary Jane’s Last Dance

I sit here, under motivated, after another night of over consuming high THC cannabis. I was alone, so I didn’t enjoy the high. The amount that I had made me worried about my mortality and the mortality of those around me. Marijuana makes me way more emotional, even when I’m not on it. I become…

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WiFi – Part 17 of Through the Gates

The shower curtain reveals nothing. Nobody is in the bathroom. I turn the knob on the bedroom door then quickly kick it open, turn on the light, and jump inside brandishing the large butcher knife, nobody. I check the closet, nobody. There is simply nobody in this cabin. The dog looks a little worried for…

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Pretty Girl – Part 15 of Through the Gates

I feel a surprising amount of courage, coupled with a complete lack of anxiety. I walk toward the barking dog, but he’s so much louder now. The barks are loud, but they don’t seem angry. They seem desperate. The dog starts howling, a deep sad dog cry. The dog looks to be a black lab,…

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Selective Amnesia – Part 13 of Through the Gates

We get out of the truck and cross the highway. It’s technically a highway, but it’s still a country road. Joey rubs his belly a bit, points to the ground, and says: “I think you were about there when I found you.” “You didn’t see a phone or a wallet nearby though, did you?” I…

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The Psychologist – Part 9 of Through the Gates

“Hey Mila, it’s Sam.” Sam’s attention is divided, he looks between me and starting blankly into the distance. It’s a recognition that we’ve made a connection that he wants to help me. Sam continues after a short pause: “I need some information on an ambulance report.” I look at Alex who looks at their father…

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Tulsa – Part 5 of Through the Gates

I get the fuck out of the hospital. I don’t know where I am or where I’m going, but maybe I’m thinking my best option would be to get out of the city, find a job, and see if I can figure out who I am. I’m walking through the badly designed hospital parking lot…

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Am I Under Arrest – Part 3 of Through the Gates

I’m lying down again. The air is still, cool, and smells weird, inauthentic somehow. Antiseptic, the air smells too clean. My eyes flutter open, everything is white or some other neutral but equally boring colour. I’m in a bed. Was this all a dream? My head feels OK, but my thoughts are slow. I have…

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The inspiration of death

On a lovely summer night, three days after I moved into my beautiful new house, back in July of 2018, the most wonderful soul left this earth. After that, I drank more alcohol, smoked more weed (it’s cool – totally legal here), watched more TV, and ate more junk food. My niece overdosed on Aleve,…

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Transformational Writing

At the Ottawa Writer’s Fest, I had the pleasure of hearing Cherie Dimaline speak. She restored my faith in fiction, saying that it can be transformational. I take that to mean that it really changes a person in a core way. It’s not like when you see photos of chocolate then you eat nothing but…

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Punishment vs Reward

Writing should be fun and inspirational, but how do you do it more often. I often think of writing like exercise: It’s something I want to do; It’s something I need to do; It’s something that will benefit me; If I build it into my routine it becomes easier; It’s something I don’t have time…

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