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Lee Sheppard
Lee Sheppard is a writer and educator living in Toronto, ON.
Lee Sheppard is a writer and educator living in Toronto, ON.


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Number Zero of Ten Or So Albums
Facebook, that strange non-place. So lovely. So
toxic. So much of the world distilled into some sort of essence, though not the
world entire because so much of what is important is missing. Quiet. Trees.
Fresh air. One hundred other things. There is music t...
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We Meet
When you were little, someone had given you a
wallet with a horse’s head in profile so you had decided you liked horses. Your
parents got you riding lessons at a local stable where you spent most of the
afternoon in a pool, supervised by disinterested lifeg...
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Despite All That
In the New York Times article “Divers Find Body of Toddler Snatched by
Alligator at Disney Resort,” it was the word “unwitting”—used by an apparently
sympathetic lawyer to describe the victim and his family—that really changed
how you imagined Alton’s birth...
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Alex stared out a big east window of the Trinity
Community Recreation Centre. The clouds were an incredible grey-blue and Alex
imagined that they were a school of enormous fish crammed gill to gill and
passing over some sunken, post-apocalypse Toronto or a ...
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Might Be
No, I don’t think so. You look so familiar. You didn’t go to Pearson
High School? I am shaking my head, No. Well, here’s a drink anyway. I don’t drink. Shit. Right? I’m holding the beer out to you anyway. I am lifting my hands in the air, my palms towards
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Behind This Door
Ward had been lying there, awake. From his hotel room, he could
see the clouds getting lighter behind the Cathedral of St. Mary of The
Assumption up on Gough and he felt he finally had permission to get out of bed.
He was here to have a break from the probl...
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Your Place In The World
It’s the morning of your birthday, the first
birthday you’ve ever spent without your mother—not because she’s dead, she’s
too proud for that—but because the week of your birthday happened to be the
only week your partner’s family, dispersed now across Canad...
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They’d met in primary school. Lisa liked Jens’s
smile and his blonde and twisted hair looked to her like the fur between her
yellow Labrador retriever Tina’s shoulders. Jens thought Lisa’s skin was like
bread crust or one of those new things Mom was buying ...
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Strong, Bad
Dad’s hedge was meant as a defense against the
surprising number of poor golfers who would hook or slice those tiny white
moons towards our house, but Dad’s little cedar trees just couldn’t grow fast
enough. It was years before they even peaked their heads ...
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Fellow Passengers
The person who served you your coffee assumed that
you were a doctor. He, a small, dark brown man with an accent you wouldn’t
presume to place, said, “Will that be all, Doctor?” Your brain had to make sense of the mistake before
you could say, “Yes. Yes, th...
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