by Anne Isakowitsch

The boy is four years old. He enjoys nothing more than being at home. Since he no longer goes to kindergarten, his nightmares have stopped. He has fewer tantrums and seems…happier. At daycare he suffers from the toxic masculinity of his peers: who is stronger, who can jump further, who wins, who is the best, the best, the best. Continue Reading →

by Ola Kamińska

PART ONE: PANDEMIC POETICS

Week four of staying inside: I exchange flowers with my friend Ania. She borrowed our car yesterday and I was able to finally make my childhood dream come true, giving her the keys by slowly lowering them on a very thin rope. I must have read that in one of Astrid Lindgren’s Bullerbyn stories or some other book from primary school: kids exchanging gifts in a basket traveling between windows on a ribbon. Today, she brings the keys back. I don’t want to lower an empty rope, so I tie a small yellow flower to it. It’s windy and I live on the second floor. The keys come back after a minute, with a red tulip attached, almost as if we had agreed to this exchange earlier. Continue Reading →

by Ricky Clark

I stood on the corner of Charlottenstraße wearing a white hoody and bright yellow washing-up gloves, handing out postcards that read something along the lines of:

Your favourite vegan café is still open! You will not go hungry with us! (psst – Please come. We’re desperate to keep our jobs so bring your friends. You can’t sit inside. No. Or use the loo either but please come. Your cash is not welcome. Please bring a card.) Continue Reading →

by Laura Maniglier

you will start by stretching your limbs
then you will get out from under the blanket
then you will put your slippers on
then you will walk to the window
then you will open the curtains
then you will open the window as well
then you will go to the bathroom, if you feel like you need to Continue Reading →

by Clarissa Lempp
Image: Adim

I am going outside and the world happens. Birds sing and some people make out under a chestnut tree. Sparrows take a dirt bath against bugs and parasites. It stinks like piss and puke. It is Saturday morning in Kreuzberg. But wait. Something is wrong…
Continue Reading →

by Karini Viranna

It’s Thursday. April 9, 2020. My birthday is in 25 days which Facebook reminds me. “Which charity do I want to donate too?” I’m newly separated from my husband. Newly, as in a few days before the quasi-lockdown in Berlin. We shared our birthdays together. I used to hate birthdays. I think you hate it when your father never shows up and you’re 4, then 8, then 16. But then my husband’s was the day after mine. They became fun. This will be my first birthday alone. My dearest friends have already suggested a Zoom call. I am excited for them. Continue Reading →

by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad

Isolation Day 11

we are getting along fine

even though we are

in each other’s faces

24/7

I’m amused at how

you are the perpetual optimist

(sometimes

I have to remind myself

that’s why I fell for you) Continue Reading →

by Tihana Romanić

When I woke up it was just another day. I did not read any messages until I had completed my morning routine. A cup of warm lemon water, meditating, eating my breakfast and having a cup of coffee. That´s a new rule, no messages, no news before coffee. I learned my lesson last Friday. I read the news first thing in the morning. It said that Berlin may be heading towards a curfew. A curfew could mean no running, and running is my sanity. I read the news and fell apart. I cried for seven hours. Seven. You read that right. On and off, for seven hours. An hour for each day I was self-isolating, maybe. Continue Reading →

by Greg Rhyno

Last night, I left my house to meet a friend. It was beautiful outside—warmer than I expected—and all the lights along my street were haloed with mist. After a day indoors, the fresh air was sweet and good in my lungs, so I turned up my music, started down the sidewalk, and tried to keep two metres away from anyone I passed.

When I first moved to Guelph, it was a city where people ran into one another. Even as a newcomer, it didn’t take long to spot familiar faces in bars, busses, and the windows of restaurants. Long before I carried a phone everywhere, I knew that if I wanted to hunt down some friends, I could always drop by the Albion patio, or weave my way through Jimmy Jazz. The city has changed a lot in the last twenty years, but unlike so many places, it still has a centre: a beating heart of a downtown that always felt like an extension of my own neighbourhood. Continue Reading →