From Highway #3, I see them distant in the western sky. Southern Alberta summer storm clouds the colour of wet fire-pit ash, piled and billowing and moving. Maybe ten minutes. Shadows and dust funnels rolling across rapeseed fields, the pelting strafe of rain. Seven. #3 is empty and still. No one’s coming. Three. The scent of wet earth, the violent thrashing of grain. Sudden cold, darkness. I turn my backpack into the front and crouch. A drop hits. Then more. Then sheets, bouncing and stinging. One minute. Two. Silence. Then bright with warmth, and I stand and stretch and wait.
Mark is a traveller who writes, a writer who runs, a runner who drinks, and a drinker who loves movies. On rare occasions, he is all five.
From Vancouver, Canada and a teacher by training, he's lived and taught in his native Canada, Japan and the UAE.
His first book, Crescent Moon Over Laos, was published in 2014. He is working on other ideas that may or may not evolve into a second book, as well as a collection of short stories.
He lives in Vancouver with his long time partner and their three cats.