Philip Canterbury
Bio
Storyteller and historian crafting fiction and nonfiction.
2022 Vocal+ Fiction Awards Finalist [Chaos Along the Arroyo].
Top Story - October 2023 [All the Colorful Wildflowers].
Stories (22)
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Busy Tone
Earnest’s home sat on 10 acres, and his closest neighbor was a half-mile beyond the junipers, piñons, and scrub brush surrounding him. He’d been there three years after deciding he was done with people—he’d spent his life surrounded by people, and all that was behind him. He had his trees, his acreage, a local golf course, and this house. He’d done his best to love the house, but it wasn't as simple as he’d hoped.
By Philip Canterbury11 months ago in Fiction
All the Colorful Wildflowers (and the humans who witness them). Honorable Mention in Light Breaks Water Challenge. Top Story - October 2023. Content Warning.
Thinking of Dachau; how, sixty years on, blossoms burst from the blood ditch. Grief fades to anger. Rage terrorizes victims.
By Philip Canterbury2 years ago in Poets
Student 58
Anthony Macord closed his leather-bound notepad, stood, and stepped away from the great conference table. He followed Dr. Stephen Gannon into the hallway where Dr. Emily Ackhurst awaited them, a metal clipboard clasped in her left arm. At a hurried pace, she led the Neuroscience Now reporter and Dr. Gannon along the humming, brightly lit halls inside Alacrity’s headquarters to a door labeled, “Study Hall | Observation Suite.”
By Philip Canterbury2 years ago in Futurism
Jellystone, err... "Yellowstone"
Despite its nonsensical timeline, episodes follow the same pacing as Baywatch, but in Montana, so the beachy, butt-centric music video montages have been replaced by cattle-wrangling and rodeo routine music video montages. Also, no one plays a sympathetic character and everyone is a villain—except for Jimmy, the former meth cook.
By Philip Canterbury2 years ago in Critique
Dancing Automata. Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge.
Shortly after his invitations went out, Benji, their would-be host, was indicted back home in Britain. Extradition requests encircled the equator. A hotline offered cash for tips on his whereabouts. Still, the striking gold foil invites arrived, each by drone, providing a selected ensemble with the precise intelligence sought by Interpol. Each kept mum as instructed while booking travel and preparing their luggage for the exclusive event.
By Philip Canterbury3 years ago in Fiction
End Game at Fort Igloo
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in His room. That’s what my epitaph will say; that’s what all our epitaphs will say. At least, on the little tin placard drilled into the concrete beside my catacomb niche – or whatever it’s called. Is it still a catacomb if it’s only for jars of ash? Either way, it’s embarrassing.
By Philip Canterbury3 years ago in Fiction
The 'Violet Protest' Was An Art Campaign We Needed – Even If Its Audience Hasn't Yet Responded
Thanatophobia: fear of death or dying. Athazagoraphobia: fear of being forgotten or forgetting something. Disposophobia: fear of losing something. Three terms I recently learned. Three terms that have likely crept up behind each of us over the past two years. On some level, most have had to reckon with thanatophobia. Many have felt afraid of forgetting to wash our hands, or not touching our face, or socially distancing. Most of all, perhaps, the fear of losing something precious (and perhaps it's not even a thing)—community, connection, sovereign democratic liberty Herself—has been staring down every American for years now. Each unfolding news cycle brings us ever closer to that final back-breaking hay straw. “This…” we’ve each likely said aloud at some point since January 2020 (whether hyperbolically or in earnest), “...this is what’s going to finally upend the country forever.” With different experiences of the pandemic, the rallies for social justice, and the election fallout—even different truths about them—each of us has been compelled to reckon with a fear of losing America (or integral parts of Her). Sadly, this fear might be one of the strongest unifying factors in our present condition as a country.
By Philip Canterbury4 years ago in Humans
