100 days — writingAug 23, 2026

Crime Scene

Charlie and Mabel were left for dead in a snowbank two years ago. We took them in and gave them a job: watch the shop, report anything unusual. Today, no girls. Just an open window and a light rain.

100 days — writingAug 16, 2026

Hair Today

It happens with no rhythm, no rhyme. One hair, one inch, in a place it didn't exist yesterday. Not a thatch. Just one. Eyebrow, then shoulder, and today, gloriously, my neck.

camp covidJan 29, 2021

Leaving Camp Covid

After weeks in isolation, ‘Camp Covid’ is finally in the rearview—bittersweet as it may be. Through media attention, unexpected friendships, and an endless supply of hotel soap, this experience has been a strange but powerful reminder that kindness, connection, and a good sense of humour can get you through anything.

100 days — writingSep 25, 2026

Fresh Coffee

I could switch tables, I guess, but that just makes things awkward, and there's no guarantee the next one won't wobble. Better to stick with the known quantity and let the coffee clean the grout.