This time it is the younger of the toppings the son! He is calling to ask if he can stay at his friend’s house for the night. No problem I answer him, I know the friend and I also know he is not far from us if there is a problem. I am half a sleep and hear him say “thanks mom” and click he is gone
About Martha Farley
I am a daycare Technician at the Lester B Pearson School Board and when I am not working I write.
I have had several articles published in the Montreal Gazette as well as the West Island Gazette.
I also received the honor of being one of the writers published in a book that Mark Abley edited featuring many writers from the Pointe Claire area celebration the 100th anniversary of our city.
I have also had several poems published in anthologies.
He’s Just Paul
Paul is older now. He’s sixty years old and lives on his own. He’s mentally challenged, or intellectually handicapped, and he’s a real character.
Moons, Mystics and Oracles
My husband has been dead now for almost a year. He had lung cancer, which eventually went to his brain. He had been so ill for so long; five years, in fact. He fought the good fight. A soldier, a warrior of death and dying. But it took him in the end, and along with him, a part of me too.
The Shape-Shifter
“You know Doc, the Indians of the southwest believed that some spirits were shape-shifters and they could become animals, other sprits or even other people. Sometimes I feel like that. I feel like I’m a shape-shifter.”
My Christmas Without You
So I rented two rooms at a hotel downtown so the children and I could feel like we were away somewhere. Anywhere but home, where those memories are so sharp and clear.
School Daze
That was one of the most embarrassing events of my life. It was awful arriving to class, when all the other kids were seated properly at their desks, being dragged into the room by my mother.
The Void
I, on the other hand, worried. That was my job. I worried about you, I worried about our future, I worried about my own health. I worried you would fall or have a stroke, or that you’d die without anyone by your side, without someone to hold your hand and help you to be calm.
It’s the Little Things
He used to bring me coffee in bed, we would lie there and talk, starting our weekend mornings with a cup of java was always the best. He used to squeeze my hand so tight as we would take our walks here and there, holding hands like teenagers. He used to surprise me with special gifts on special days.
Celluloid
She watched the movie over and over, watching her dead husband, almost willing his celluloid self to come to her. She felt as though she, too, was being driven by some force toward her husband on the screen.
Moms and Bank Robbers
That day, the bank was having a bake sale as a fundraiser for a local charity. Mom, of course, wanted to look at the baking after she finished her banking. So when she finished up with the teller, we wandered over to the baking table where we ran into Mary, one of Mom’s past employees.
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