Welcome to the sixth issue of Toronto Journal . . . and we hope you’ll excuse us for beginning with a few lines of shameless self-promotion.

Narrated by Anthony Salvalaggio.

HISTORY FEATURE. There is a housing shortage. We are encouraged to consume Canadian produce. And the federal government is contemplating modular housing. The year is 1941.

Narrated by the author.

STORIES FROM THE CITY. Memory is a fragile and malleable thing. How is it that we remember some insignificant fact or interaction for an entire lifetime, while other events disappear into oblivion, calved off like chunks of ice from a glacier, to float away and melt as if they had never existed?

Narrated by Anthony Salvalaggio.

FICTION. It was 6:42 A.M., and I was sitting in the dark, waiting for the first fragment of dawn to put an end to that interminable night.

Narrated by Brigid Cami.

FICTION. My family used to rent a cottage at Sauble Beach every summer. It was a shack really, with uneven floors, draftywindows, and plumbing that sputtered, farted, and screeched every time the water was turned on.

Narrated by Erica Salvalaggio.

FICTION. The day I stopped crying, my ex-wife, Kate, made a particularly cruel remark, immediately putting my resolve to the test.

Narrated by the author.

FICTION. Estephanous was born midway through fall and each year he would mourn the transition to winter with a birthday cake and candles. This year he drove up the 400 towards Sudbury in a rental far too big for him and his wife Heidi, leaving behind the straight lines and jagged edges of Toronto’s concrete skyline.

Narrated by the author.

FICTION. One Saturday, about two in the morning, I woke up to this scratching sound outside.

Narrated by the author.