We crawl along a wooden plank, red-orange rug of molten lava bubbles inches beneath our palms. We grip engraved pillars to keep ourselves steady, thumbing grooves. Rug-burnt knees slip, hands fall to grip socked feet, uncles grumble. They play cards above us with cartoon knights and horses. Not regular playing cards: Italian cards, with Italian men holding secret Italian meanings in their sheaths. Nonno scratches lottery tickets while Nonna sings shaky songs in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
We hop on cardboard box lids, clinging to each other. Search for a lava-proof paddle. Climbing carboys in the closet, we scale wicker-wrapped terrain in the dark with no harness. Wine-thief snake threatens to strike, red drops visible straight into its belly. Hearing our names called, we peer through shutters and make our way to dinner.<\/p>\n
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NICOLE HALDOUPIS<\/strong>\u00a0is a writer, editor and designer from Toronto. She is currently living in Saskatoon completing an M.F.A. in writing. She co-created untethered<\/a><\/em>, a Toronto-based literary journal. Her work can be found in (parenthetical)<\/a><\/em>, The Quilliad<\/a><\/em>, and in the chapbook Food Works: plums in the icebox<\/em>. Find her on Twitter @nicolehaldoupis<\/a>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We crawl along a wooden plank, red-orange rug of molten lava bubbles inches beneath our palms. We grip engraved pillars to keep ourselves steady, thumbing grooves. Rug-burnt knees slip, hands fall to grip socked feet, uncles grumble. They play cards… Continue Reading
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