Nyx Kain is a writer with roots deep in both the Canadian prairies and a fascination with the power of belief. From velveteen rabbits to ghost stories that give more life to their subjects with each fascinated retelling, their passion is to celebrate and affirm how the feelings we share through fiction themselves create something new and real – whether that is a friendship with someone fascinated by the same story, a call to action, or something as small and tenacious as a memory that only breathes when a wind in the right season blows across it.
“I’m scared.” “Don’t be,” she told him, the tiny boy whose name she didn’t even know, and heard the words clumsy and insensitive and terribly adult from her own lips.…
Life was hard on the stairs leading into the pit. But the screams below were worse, and the light above was frightening, so he made do as best he could.…
It had been easier, once, to just lie about having a wife. Better than trying to explain why he didn’t. Or ask why he should. More and more, the people…
Would it be better if he just stopped breathing? He tried sometimes, in the still of the night, but it was as hard as just choosing to stop should be.…
We made camp just over a thousand metres down. At least, according to the instruments, but I think Paul is the only one who believes those anymore. Just over halfway…
No one stood waiting on the platform to see him off. The rocket might have been the only pillar separating the grey concrete and sky. Once he removed it, there…