“I might not like the city, but I’ve found out that at this early hour even London seems to be somewhere less crowded, less franchised, its spirit – whatever of it that hasn’t been sold off – more visible.” A traveler rediscovers home in the wee hours.
William Michaelian searches for the seam between art and life: “And yet what is strangeness, but the very delight of a beautiful, unaccountable world, ever the more vivid once we have learned to let it go?”
I hope the following eight stories will be of use to you, to educate my cisgender readers and provide support and solidarity to my transgender siblings.
“I’m not a writer who processes via blog. When I do that, the work I produce is often flecked with the bullshit I tell myself while trying to fend off harder truths.”
The sun finally came out today with some warmth. We’re at the tail end of winter in Toronto, and I’m starting to get that fed up feeling where I’m ready to just get on with it already. Those who know me well know that I am the queen of complaining about the weather being too hot […]
I was making an emergency house call on the bad yellow-eyed woman when I stumbled across a rapidly forming mob at the old harbour in Hermanus. Sensing a fight in the making, I pushed my way to the front. If you come across an outbreak of hostilities between rival gangs of perlemoen poachers, there is […] […]
Anthony Wilson is a poet, author, and educator in Exeter, England, and blogs on everything from writing to reading to creativity.