Sous Sous | The Walrus

Still Life

August 16, 2016April 1, 2020 - by Sous Sous

Our son was born with dark, wet hair and a button nose. His eyes were closed, but the death certificate later said they were brown

Investigation tape that reads "Do not cross" is tangled up in a ball

July/August 2014 / Poetry

Watching the Cop Show in Bed

July 23, 2014April 14, 2020 - by Sous Sous

Apparently, it’s very, very bad to let a well-dressed man into your home. An Oxbridge accent, coupled with the claim your husband’s hurt, and he’s from Scotland Yard: disaster! When …

Fiction / July/August 2014

Ultrasound

July 21, 2014April 14, 2020 - by Sous Sous

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 representing “of no interest to me” and 10 representing “of maximum interest to me,” the rapes in my neighbourhood rated a …

July/August 2014 / Poetry

Part of the Main

July 3, 2014April 14, 2020 - by Sous Sous

You might say that a clod washed away diminishes the whole, the contours of the land effaced by saintly patience of the tide, which knows that in time its tiny …

Fiction / January/February 2013

Seal

December 31, 2012April 13, 2020 - by Sous Sous

An endless sea, the horizon exquisite, with a particular blue-yellow light glancing off it

Fiction / July/August 2009

The True Sorrows of Calamity Jane

July 12, 2009April 15, 2020 - by Sous Sous

The night Bill Hickok was shot in the back of the head at a Black Hills poker table by the coward Jack McCall, my mother indeed grabbed a meat cleaver …