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.
Acknowledging that the world was ordinary was part of growing up. Accepting that it was ordinary felt more like part of dying. So he never had – he kept taking…
The worst part was that they couldn’t remember whether it had always been that way. They should have. It should have been obvious. If the door to their bedroom had…
It’ll be temporary, they all told him, like a comfort. Or a deadline – a demand that he should be himself again, the him they remembered, before his dazed, unfamiliar…
The wave had been washing towards them for as long as he could remember. By millimetres every month, so slowly that he could watch days and nights shine through the…
Every brave fisher or traveller waved away from the harbour and never seen again was a question unanswered. A prayer on their loved ones’ lips late at night. Promising anything,…
“Don’t touch that!” she snapped. Her voice rang out cruelly across the beach, and he looked up at her with tears shocked into his sweet brown eyes. But at least…
Something a little different this week. I am five days from moving house, and my thoughts are as cluttered with that as most of my spaces are with cardboard boxes.…
The train had been humming through the night for longer than it felt as if the night should have lasted. Their watch had stopped along with the brass-rimmed clock above…