The Tininess in My Head

The island where I was born has untold manifestations in my head. It is tiny and vast, empty and overbuilt, extensions from every building, every building gone, the path across hills and prairies, leading to a barren rocky point that never was.

I’ve circumnavigated the island many times, down from a steep ridge, the water choked with ice, a canoe at the ready. I need to go back for a paddle and watch everyone leave. There’s a menagerie of animals in the water, fish and seal, cats and birds, and a miniature sheep that fits in my pocket. Half asleep, I do the breast stroke to the bottom.

A message from my realtor comes through; someone wants to buy the island. I’ve already left. That’s what I text. I don’t intend to return. I get a question mark back and reply with a meme of the sheep in my pocket.

Advance Reviews for “The Vanishing Pill”

Contrasting the dim of the city against the icy wilds of Greenland, The Vanishing Pill exposes the violent inner conflicts of our nature. As McPhedran’s liner notes state: “Dreams aren’t simple things; they’re the only fucking thing.”

The advanced reviews are unanimous…

Atlantic Tri-Monthly: “I ate it up like a rabid monkey. McPhedran stews his prose with a burning hot sauce that leaves you screaming for more.” 

USA Tomorrow: “You have not lived until you have read this intoxicating yarn of lust and joy.”

NY1 Off-line: “New Yorker McPhedran’s latest explosion of prose lights up the city with a tower of anguish and delight.”

Foxy News on-line: “It’s a good book, even with all the big words.”

Bequeathed Baby

Winds came hard from the east, carrying my ex to the sands she loved and an urn, a bequeathment from her father, now chipped, his old apartment full of former students.

The water flooded up into a pool, the students playing and spitting, little to say, the phone – the phone again! – half burned in the muddy sand, unable to grip, to move back, even with the kids trying to throw rocks, thinking he might never come back, and then having to go to the bathroom, always that.

He was a baby. He wanted everything for himself and then none of it, vanishing into nothing. And not even that.

I’m Just Saying, Mother

Hello? Yes, mother? What’s that? You’re worried about me? Okay, me too. But…I’m worried about you too. I get that you’re into this knowing life thing, growing babies, losing your figure and all that, but that doesn’t mean…That’s what I’m saying. There’s dark matter and things like that. No, you don’t know about that. You don’t.

Greenlandic painting in Ilulissat

I know it’s not fair. You taught me about life not being fair, remember? But all this goddess stuff, I mean, it’s like father being strong and smart. He gave up on that a long time ago. Anyway, yes, my point! Watch out for Hubris, okay? And always being in control. It’s a bad look. Just saying. Love you too, Ma.

Escape Route

Cases of beer and champagne made the halls narrow, the wives arriving in anticipation of a cup win, one commenting that there was no way the captain would sing Karaoke at the Equivocator’s house. And no one would ever visit the Finn’s place except the Finns. I realized that the black-suited reporters were all old-time Republicans and ducked outside.

Pen and ink sketch, Goya

The space was open at the center with winding corridors and passageways off to the side. I found a bathroom under the stairs with a view of the valley, but it was packed, some of them my former students. I pleaded for them to leave, but it was a big joke and they took pictures of me as I crapped in my hands.

Honest About Being Dead

I saw my friend Gord last night. He died some two years ago and looked almost happy in spite of the pain, knowing he wasn’t really there. I told him that I respected him for that, being so honest about being dead and then realized I shouldn’t have said that. I changed the topic to how I was still afraid of the dark and that I didn’t know how to work through my hate. I just wasn’t big enough for that.

And then Gord was gone or was in the hallway getting his coat, and I had to get to Abbotsford for a job interview and was waiting for a bus and then watching a school play, hiding in someone else’s bed, waiting for the food to be delivered, still mad about everything but glad I wasn’t dead.