Airports

Airports

The intermittent roll and click of suitcase wheels across too-slick floor tiles. The occasional drone of “last call for passengers travelling to...” over crackly tannoys. The constant, congested coughs of inefficient air conditioning units. Welcome to the airport: where beer costs a fortune, basic human comforts are a luxury, and the very purpose of this … Continue reading Airports

Me, Myself, and Mental Health

Me, Myself, and Mental Health

I didn’t enjoy my late teens (I know, I know: who did?). Several unfortunate events happened, one after the other in quick and queasy succession, as they often do in life when we’re least expecting it. I — a kind of lost, kind of geeky, kind of insecure young woman with a block fringe that … Continue reading Me, Myself, and Mental Health

My Uncle Malcolm

My uncle Malcolm is eighty-one years old. He lives in a nice house in a nice suburb of Toronto with a nice backyard and a nice dog and a nice wife. He’s from where I’m from, and — like me — he landed in Toronto in his early twenties. We have a lot of things … Continue reading My Uncle Malcolm

A Woman’s History

A Woman's History

A woman’s history is an ever-growing tree of countless leaves and branches. Its interlacing roots snake and stretch through the tender soil of firsts: first loves, first hopes, first failures, first heartbreaks. We exchange accounts of these firsts and the seconds and thirds that follow with the women around us — mothers, sisters, friends, aunts, … Continue reading A Woman’s History

To my Parents

Big Iain and wee Lorna, loving life in Gibraltar

Mum, Dad: Thank you for being my wing-men. Not with the whole "helping me pick up guys at the bar" thing, but with the whole, y'know, "life" thing. Thanks for letting thirteen-year-old me spend your money on octopus trousers and fingerless fishnet gloves from Tammy while most of the other girls were spending their parents' … Continue reading To my Parents