Blair clutches the photo of her husband and two children. The edges are bent and out of shape; worn and damaged. The photo is with her always, like a friend, a companion. She studies the photo with concentration, as though she could bring them back to her.
Complaining about social distancing while well fed and entertained is a first world issue.
Life doesn’t always have to be hard. Sometimes, Mamas can get good jobs, Grammas can get new hips and a little girl and her dog can play together and watch the clouds float on by.
Sometimes Mamas need help. Sometimes they almost let grief and depression ruin their life, and the lives of the ones they love.
Life’s too short to keep living with a ghost and her kid. It’s time to shake the dust of this town off my boots and go have some fun.
Shiny laptops, missing pension cheques and empty ring boxes are mysteries that need solving. But what can a lonely old woman do?
Sometimes exercising your right to an attorney doesn’t work out. Especially when your attorney needs to respray his Mohawk.
I laugh at the idea of making the present the same as the glorious past. To hear some people talk, their past was lived in Nirvana. Idyllic and almost heaven. Yet I remember their ragged clothes, their snotty noses, using socks for mittens in the middle of winter. The past has different rules.
The governor was often in foul mood, for he was ruled by his wife Lady Frances. She was frequently absent, sharing her charms with various others including the king’s son, Prince William. I was a broken man without hope, but for the sake of the children who I instructed, I continued at my teacher’s post.
It was the summer of 1796 when we arrived in Nova Scotia and we counted ourselves fortunate to have made our advent during the warm season. In actual fact, most of us were experiencing colder temperatures than we had ever before encountered.