Agnes and True2021-11-16T11:04:54-05:00

A Canadian Literary Journal

Agnes and True

Agnes and True: a Canadian online literary journal dedicated to providing a place for the work of Canadian writers, both established and emerging.

A Canadian Literary Journal

Thank you for considering Agnes and True as a destination for your work.

Submission Guidelines

SUBMIT YOUR STORY

Sweetheart

by Chantel Lavoie

That summer he moved into the house where she had raised her children. He brought with him patience, self-knowledge free of ego, minor flaws that come from living too long alone. Strong hands willing to pull weeds. Height to reach the top shelves. A warm laugh. Also, two dogs.

She had not chosen to live with dogs, although she’d grown up with them. Farm dogs—who stayed outside—kept away coyotes and skunks, tangled with porcupines then ran howling across the prairie yard, noses needle-pierced so that her father had to take pliers to the quills. No one had picked up after those dogs, or leashed them. They roamed. Once, a stupid stray they’d taken in got killed by a truck on the gravel road.

So, when her new husband asked her to come on walks with the three of them—man, black Labrador, and […]

May 21st, 2024|

The Club

April 15th, 2024|

by Lissa Muir

“Is this okay?” I asked. We were going to meet my husband’s boss and his wife for dinner at their private members club. As luck would have it, my body had undergone a transformation recently, and an old designer silk dress—bought when the expense of children and aging past forty hadn’t yet wreaked havoc—fit.

Tom nodded absently. He didn’t like his boss, had taken the job out of necessity rather than want, and was perhaps even […]

War Story

March 12th, 2024|

by Emily Strempler

Light slanted through the bars on the hotel room window, dust swirling in lazy golden rays as they fell across the bed where The Boy dozed, curled up in a nest of blankets. An old computer on the desk in the corner, wedged in next to the hot plate and kettle, played the day’s football match over a stuttering internet connection. Leaning over the bathroom sink, The Woman applied makeup in between the streaks on […]

For Sale: Heritage Home on Lakefront Property

February 12th, 2024|

by M.W. Irving

It’s a gravelly ten-minute walk from my parents’ place to the lake, with plenty of weeds, loose rocks, and thorny vines to trip on. A childhood spent walking along that path had resulted in countless scabby knees and hot tears. It’s a particularly awful trek at four o’clock in the morning, sleep-soaked and fretting in the dark. The relief when I spot Dad standing at the water’s edge is almost worth the torment. He’s a […]

Wanderer

December 4th, 2023|

by Alexis MacIsaac

The house sits on a hill, far from the dirt road, partially obscured by half-dead appendages of once mighty trees. A wooden structure: large, square, and battered. Cavernous when unlit. Inelegant in its rusticity. I see this image as might a stranger. But my detachment is always disturbed, because what I also see, as I drive my car along the unwieldy dirt road which leads me back to the familiar, is a swarm of spectral, […]

Tame

October 3rd, 2023|

by Tannis Koskela

Only a few weeks ago this bushy cat was a feral barn cat. Claws out, hissing, and quick to hide. A bit of warmth and regular food, and he has become a cat of luxury. He moves into the room like an inch worm. Step, then back arched for a pat. Step, then arch for a scratch. Step arch, step arch, tail curling around door frames, purring and pleasing. How […]

For Solo Voice

September 5th, 2023|

by Tina Silver

Even though Gretchen had little potential as a singer, Renata needed the money. Seventy-five dollars bought the same groceries whether it came from a promising talent or a mom taking a forty-five-minute reprieve from carpools and laundry. Renata privately vowed to train Gretchen not to hurt her vocal chords and respect the physiological miracle of singing. For her part, Gretchen took lessons for fun, to check an item off her bucket list. Devoid of […]

Women of Windsor

August 5th, 2023|

by Preston Lang

The book was called Men of Moncton. Rita grabbed it on the way out of Owen’s apartment to have something to read on the train. She’d thought it was fiction, but it was a collection of short biographies—each profiling another illustrious son of New Brunswick’s most essential city.

The woman sitting next to her, glanced at the cover. “Are you from Moncton?”

“No, I’m from Windsor,” Rita said before realizing that she should’ve lied. But quickly […]

Donor Fatigue

July 7th, 2023|

by Cadence Mandybura

“Just the blood today, ma’am?”

Marybeth blinked, still distracted by how she’d hung up on her daughter to make this appointment in time. “No, I’ve signed up for the whole regimen, as usual,” she said. “Compassion, patience, tolerance—the works.”

“Oh,” said the nurse—Prashant, according to his nametag—confusion fluttering across his face. “I wasn’t given the extended forms. Wait here, please . . .” He stepped out, leaving Marybeth in the consulting room. She fanned herself with an aftercare brochure […]

The Universal Treat

June 6th, 2023|

by Jenny Vester

Even before they chain up that dog in their spectacularly untended back yard, you despise the couple next door. You refer to them as Bitch and Asshole, same as they call each other, and give them the surname Knob so you can lump them together—as in, The Knobs have really done it this time.

The dog arrives on a Friday night while you’re at work. You drive home from another shift of mixing drinks and pouring […]

Bad Luck and Big Ants

May 1st, 2023|

by Sheila Burpee Duncan

In the darkness, Ella swats the side of her head before lifting it from the pillow. “Fucking ants,” she says and fumbles for the switch. Bedside lamplight blinds her, but soon she can see that the dog on the floor beside her is awake—alert and ready to do whatever is needed. Maybe that’s where the ant landed.

His back to her, her husband mutters, “Wha…”

There’s the ant. On the duvet pulled up over her husband’s […]

Intentions

March 22nd, 2023|

by Beth Goobie

Riley locked her bike to a NO PARKING sign and surveyed the storefront forty feet in from the sidewalk, behind a small parking lot. Four months ago, she had started volunteering at The Good Intentions Emporium, a local thrift store, in the hopes of earning a job reference. At twenty-seven, she was The Emporium’s youngest volunteer, and she had quickly learned that her good intentions were not to manifest in helpful suggestions, no matter how […]

That Woman I Know

February 15th, 2023|

by Imola Zsitva

I saw her every morning at eight fifteen on the corner of Avenue de L’Épée and Fairmount. First to emerge from the electric car were the black, high-heeled boots and blue skinny jeans, followed by the green wool coat. It didn’t look warm, but it wrapped around her figure in sheer elegance. Like a movie star who always looks immaculate, even when she pops out for groceries. Her hair was blonde (as you would expect) […]

Bed Blocker

January 13th, 2023|

by Nancy Johnson

The words fly down the hospital corridor like precision missiles homing in on Maggie, their fleeing target, piercing her on impact.

“Keep her away. She’s abusing me!”

Maggie presses palms against ears as she escapes her accuser, the screeching woman in the corner room.

Indifference is everywhere—in lab coats, with stethoscopes, or arms laden with flowers, moving with unflinching eyes, looking ahead or downcast, but never back in the direction of the desperate cries—the wails just white noise […]

The Broken Village

December 15th, 2022|

by Catherine Austen

“It’s your fan belt,” the mechanic says. He has dirty hands and clean hair, a lopsided smile and good teeth. He charmed the older sister, Odelia, when he leaned over the engine and raised his pale green eyes. Young and cute—so cute he doesn’t have to be tall or rich. Odelia squeezed among the tools and grime, clearing a place for her pleated skirt. Now she sits on the counter swinging her feet, watching his […]

The Radical

November 15th, 2022|

by Julie McClement

Looking at my sister’s Instagram makes me feel hollow inside, but I can never stop returning to it—the same way I ran my tongue over the spot from a missing tooth as a kid. I tell myself I should cut back, but it’s a harmless vice, no worse than my occasional late-night drink.

Esther worships Audre Lorde, provides commentary on Beyoncé that verges on the Talmudic. These “yas queen” posts are interspersed with self-portraits of joyful […]

Go to Top