I want to know about everything, past, present and future.
Henry was an old and enjoyable man. Never was his lawn too long or too short. The snow was shoveled before the last flake had time to settle. Never did you see a visitor to his home. Never would you see Henry stray out of the neighborhood.
By Tracy4 years ago in Fiction
Monday Many times, I walked to my downtown office and possibly every day I saw him standing on the corner. No matter the weather and as extreme as it can be in Alberta he wore torn jeans, old black Velcro runners and a black hoodie. Numb to his appearance I cannot tell you how long I have been aware of him or if I had seen his face. All I remembered was his daily vigil of standing on the corner of a Jasper Avenue intersection.
Who am I but a single weed in the garden of delicate flowers? Yet he turns and singles me out. Not plucking me from the ground with dismay that I have spoiled his pallet of colour.
By Tracy5 years ago in Poets
