Articles and Short Stories
Whispers of October’s Veil
Sophia Xia Tag(s): Grief You move slowly, feet brushing the earth beneath you, where marigolds have scattered like golden echoes. The night is full of flickering altars, flames dancing on the edge of darkness, each one a beacon for those beyond the veil. You stop, staring at the photographs—frozen moments, a smile that no longer warms. It’s there, their faces, but you can’t touch them.Can’t reach them. Grief is a hand outstretchedto an empty room....
The Nook
The idea for ‘the nook’ was sparked when a worker at our school store rudely dismissed me, saying, “You came early, I will NOT sell you any noodles. Get out.” At first, I assumed he owned the store and immediately wanted to compete, driven by the idea of stealing his customers. My frustration only grew when a friend complained, “All they do is buy stuff from Costco and resell at higher prices!” It was one...
Vancouver Skytrains
It had just begun raining outside on the lowly distant streets; Skylar Grace, making a quick note to prepare an umbrella, sunk deeper into her toasted warm parka jacket. Upon looking outside the window, the late evening world presented itself as a black sea of speeding Christmas lights and neon snakes. Being on a sky train seemed, right now, to be the equivalent to being on a flying car that’s racing through a dark, high...