“Nothing ever ends poetically.” By Sasha at her desk


Sunday September 4, 2016
11:51pm
5 minutes
from a quote by Kait Rokowsky

“Nothing ever ends as poetically as you hope it will,” Minnie takes off her pants and throws them onto the heap of laundry in the corner. Her bum’s gotten a bit bigger. It looks good. “You’re bum’s looking good,” I say, lying on her bed. “I’m a cow,” Minnie takes off her shirt and pulls on an old hockey jersey that used to belong to her brother. “Shut up,” I say, throwing a pillow in the shape of a panda at her. She catches it. Quick reflexes. “What do you think is going to happen? Will I get in anywhere?” She has tears in her eyes. She sits on the end of the bed, pulling her knees to her chest.

“No one takes twenty-five year old women seriously.” By Sasha on her couch


Friday September 2, 2016
11:21pm
5 minutes
Opening Up
Lauren Dane


You said you needed space and that after I broke my jaw I kissed differently.
You said that you’d call sometime, at least on my birthday and Halloween, my favourite day of the year.
You said that when you dream, sometimes you still see me, but it’s like it was, not like it is, and that just makes you sad.
You said that you are going to become a vegan, only eating honey because who can give up honey in their right mind.
You said that when I get my period you can’t deal with me or my granny panties.
You said that you might move to Toronto and that Tinder’s a big thing there.
You said you might get a Tinder.
You said that the smell of burning means a ghost is passing through.

“Nothing ever ends poetically.” by Julia on her couch


Sunday September 4, 2016
9:26pm
5 minutes
from a quote by Kait Rokowsky

Reese couldn’t believe her luck. She used to play the lotto crosswords with her grandpa every Sunday after church. They never won anything. Reese’s grandpa made sure not to show her how upset he was when they missed yet another chance at “hitting the big time” and she had always gotten an ice cream out of it anyway. It was their thing. Their ritual. Before each scratch he’s rub his hands together like he was about to roll the dice. It had been a year to the day since he passed away. Reese couldn’t keep herself from buying a scratch card in memory of him. She rubbed her hands together just like her grandpa did. She smiled down at the scratch card as tears filled her eyes. She had won three dollars.