Thursday, February 15, 2018

Heather Birrell



The filmy-eyed old man went searching for him during the Polish Festival. He had a sister
but they had to put her down. There were beautiful girls wearing coronets of red flowers
drinking beer out of plastic cups on every corner.


I didn’t know when I met you that any of this would happen. We were playing Scrabble on
an island closer to Africa than Spain. You used the word cozy in a way I had never seen or
heard before. We went to see a movie. La Momia Vuelve.


Desert dog, street dog, half fox, half hare.

Listen. Nails clicking out circles of goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Heather Birrell is the author of two story collections, Mad Hope (one of the Globe and Mail’s top 23 fiction picks for 2012) and I know you are but what am I? Her work has been honoured with the Journey Prize for short fiction and the Edna Staebler Award for creative non-fiction and has been shortlisted for both National and Western Magazine Awards. She lives in Toronto with her family.

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