My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

For my thirtieth birthday I thought l would treat myself to a lottery ticket, not just one of those scratch-off kind but one where you actually select your numbers. I had never been an adventurous girl but figured, hey, you only turn thirty once. I’d give it a shot. After a long day of re-shelving books at the Talbot Public Library I stopped into the QuickTime station on Silverton and Croft. I purchased a tank of gasoline, a Diet Coke and the ticket. The gas was so expensive. I could not believe how much it cost to fill up my little car. The realization that I won $293.3 million took a while to sink into my brain. I stared at…

It’s almost seven. Zoya leans back in her chair, stretching her arms with heavy sighs after a fifteen-page essay. It’s due tomorrow, so there’s still time for edits – but she’s been staring at her screen too long. She peeks out her bedroom window to the right. The last creeping bands of pink and orange sun grow dim across the barren treetops of the forest nearby, bleeding into the horizon beyond her corner of the suburb. The autumn air is cool and fresh, the wind is tame and her work is done for the day. She’s looking forward to her daily run. Kicking off the chair, putting her PC to sleep and slipping into freshly-laundered workout clothes and a thin…

It’s almost seven. Zoya leans back in her chair, stretching her arms with heavy sighs after a fifteen-page essay. It’s due tomorrow, so there’s still time for edits – but she’s been staring at her screen too long. She peeks out her bedroom window to the right. The last creeping bands of pink and orange sun grow dim across the barren treetops of the forest nearby, bleeding into the horizon beyond her corner of the suburb. The autumn air is cool and fresh, the wind is tame and her work is done for the day. She’s looking forward to her daily run. Kicking off the chair, putting her PC to sleep and slipping into freshly-laundered workout clothes and a thin…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

For my thirtieth birthday I thought l would treat myself to a lottery ticket, not just one of those scratch-off kind but one where you actually select your numbers. I had never been an adventurous girl but figured, hey, you only turn thirty once. I’d give it a shot. After a long day of re-shelving books at the Talbot Public Library I stopped into the QuickTime station on Silverton and Croft. I purchased a tank of gasoline, a Diet Coke and the ticket. The gas was so expensive. I could not believe how much it cost to fill up my little car. The realization that I won $293.3 million took a while to sink into my brain. I stared at…

For my thirtieth birthday I thought l would treat myself to a lottery ticket, not just one of those scratch-off kind but one where you actually select your numbers. I had never been an adventurous girl but figured, hey, you only turn thirty once. I’d give it a shot. After a long day of re-shelving books at the Talbot Public Library I stopped into the QuickTime station on Silverton and Croft. I purchased a tank of gasoline, a Diet Coke and the ticket. The gas was so expensive. I could not believe how much it cost to fill up my little car. The realization that I won $293.3 million took a while to sink into my brain. I stared at…

It’s almost seven. Zoya leans back in her chair, stretching her arms with heavy sighs after a fifteen-page essay. It’s due tomorrow, so there’s still time for edits – but she’s been staring at her screen too long. She peeks out her bedroom window to the right. The last creeping bands of pink and orange sun grow dim across the barren treetops of the forest nearby, bleeding into the horizon beyond her corner of the suburb. The autumn air is cool and fresh, the wind is tame and her work is done for the day. She’s looking forward to her daily run. Kicking off the chair, putting her PC to sleep and slipping into freshly-laundered workout clothes and a thin…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…