Tim Ryan

Tim Ryan is a writer based in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. He has published stories in the the distant past, then took a break to encounter the "real world" and recently somehow found himself come full circle back to where he should have stayed. His story “Scottie” won first prize in the 2017 Alberta Views short story competition and was published in the January/February 2018 issue of Alberta Views. He is a member of the East Village Writers Collective. When not writing Tim coaches his daughter's soccer and hockey teams, does the dishes regularly, and tries not to get in people's way too much.

Space Elephants and Giraffes

HANNA was cold. The fine red hair on her arms stood on end. Goosebumps. The unicorn on her shirt pranced on its tiny patch of grass with every gust of wind. Dark clouds had rolled in above her. Rain was coming, she could smell it. She wanted to be down from this metal arch. When she had finally climbed all the way to the top, each blue rung cold on her hands, except where the paint was chipped – still cold, just not blue, she realized an important part of the climb was unconsidered: getting back down.

Catch and Release

Short Story Issue Four

Tim Ryan

Tim Ryan is a writer based in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. He has published stories in the the distant past, then took a break to encounter the "real world" and recently somehow found himself come full circle back to where he should have stayed. His story “Scottie” won first prize in the 2017 Alberta Views short story competition and was published in the January/February 2018 issue of Alberta Views. He is a member of the East Village Writers Collective. When not writing Tim coaches his daughter's soccer and hockey teams, does the dishes regularly, and tries not to get in people's way too much.

Space Elephants and Giraffes

HANNA was cold. The fine red hair on her arms stood on end. Goosebumps. The unicorn on her shirt pranced on its tiny patch of grass with every gust of wind. Dark clouds had rolled in above her. Rain was coming, she could smell it. She wanted to be down from this metal arch. When she had finally climbed all the way to the top, each blue rung cold on her hands, except where the paint was chipped – still cold, just not blue, she realized an important part of the climb was unconsidered: getting back down.

Catch and Release

Short Story Issue Four

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