There's an advertisement on the subway that I've been half-noticing for years. It's a woman in a backyard holding a piñata. In front of her is a blindfolded little girl taking a swing with a baseball bat as the woman cringes away. The caption? "You really need a tree in your backyard."

For years I've been staring at it and thinking, "That's a dumb ad." Okay, I thought it was clever at first, but it's been around for quite some time now, and I'm tired of looking at it.

Fast-forward to now. I'm buying a house – a house with no trees on the property. Suddenly the advertisement comes into focus again. I remember the web address for long enough to look it up. It doesn't seem so dumb anymore.

A free short story

by Siri Paulson

The shaman Taqulittuq narrows her eyes against the glare on the snow. Her sled dogs run tirelessly, the sled runners whispering. Away beyond the lead sled dog, beyond the other sleds of her people that skim lightly before her, dark shapes are moving. Just behind the shapes, whiteness resolves itself into igloos. Another band, camped by the river. Her stomach clenches.

Ahead of her, Kenojuak, the leader of the band, laughs and hugs her husband. "Look!" she shouts. "We will camp beside friends tonight and take a few days' rest before we move on."

Happy murmurs surround Taqulittuq. The people have been travelling for some days now, as the days lengthen towards spring, and she knows they are ready for a brief rest. It would not do for them to grow overtired. Making sure they are fed is Kenojuak's responsibility, but their health is up to her.

She halts her sled dogs by the little cluster of igloos. The two bands are mingling, the air filled with excited chatter that swirls around her but does not touch her. They have not seen each other since the previous spring, and there is much gossip to be had. Births, young men and women newly come of age...and deaths.

"Taqulittuq," says a deep voice behind her.