Posts By: Jennifer McNeil

Jennifer McNeil

Fiction – Then Beggars Would Ride

?Lilium Enchantment,? Val says as she puts a bulb into the hole she has made with her hands and covers it with soil. Val and her mother, Rhea, are planting lilies in the back garden on the Saturday after the long weekend in May. Rhea used to know the Latin names for almost every flower,… Read more »

Do Not Go Gentle: My Grandmother’s Rage

This article originally appeared January 25, 2008, in issue 1604. ?What am I to do now?? This has become my grandmother’s refrain. It was shocking when I saw her again after she had been moved from the Alzheimer’s care centre to the nursing home. My mother had tried to warn me, but I was still… Read more »

Do Not Go Gentle: My Grandmother’s Rage

?What am I to do now?? This has become my grandmother’s refrain. It was shocking when I saw her again after she had been moved from the Alzheimer’s care centre to the nursing home. My mother had tried to warn me, but I was still unprepared for the vacant eyes, the crooked body, and the… Read more »

Poetic Licence

Tight-Laced My corset is made of air, stronger than steel or bone and self-laced to shape me like a tube. What better way to purge this hourglass? You know, Ms. Granger holds the record, tight-laced to fifteen now and counting, but I have no use for her corsetiere. To be the hand within the glove… Read more »

The Voice Fiction Feature – POETRY BY…

Our Separation We pause at the window of the ferry car deck to watch shadows on the surface of the water chase each other across the waves like dolphins In this place we share our separation A distant beacon swings its light towards us before turning away once again to pierce the darkness between the… Read more »