In this issue
With artists getting international recognition and partygoers eager to make up for lost time, the only thing standing between Toronto and a vibrant nightlife scene is Toronto.
In the middle of the night, palliative care doctor Joshua Wales drives across the city, making house calls to people during the most emotionally complex, vulnerable moments of their lives.
In the booming private security industry, the biggest problem is finding enough guards. Then came a new source of low-wage employees—international students.
Rats are cunning, ravenous, daring, disgusting. They stand in for everything squalid and dysfunctional about urban life and we will never be rid of them.
For the last sixty years, crisis hotlines have been the emergency rooms of the mental health world. But remote work has transformed the already challenging overnight shift into a deeply lonely one.
Walking late at night, free from the noise of the day and the demands and threats of men, I can finally hear my own thoughts.
For years, I walked the city doing street outreach overnight—handing out socks, listening to people’s stories, always scanning the crowd for a familiar face.