I knocked, knocked, knocked on her door. But she didn’t answer. I waited while reading a travel brochure titled What To Do In Digby County. Ten minutes passed. I left. Went next door to the Farmers Market. Bought a bottle of white wine. Annapolis Highland Vineyards Seyval Blanc. Only 15 bucks (10 USD). Came back….
MOON DANCE Her voice it sings. She of dewy lips, scented passions fire, bathed in silver lunar light. With dread. For that distant call stirs ungentle memories. It enchants and unresistant I move to peel away sanity’s thin veneer. Against my cheek again I feel the fiery breath. Nostrils flare to the familiar scent of…
It is 4 in the morning. I am listening to the rain piss down on the stone tiles outside my room. The balcony door is open a foot and the 27 degree Celsius, muggy tropic air wafts in. I have been awake since 2 a.m. And, IT is happening again. IT being the return of…
P is for PTSD The taxi pulled up in front of my daughter’s home. I was waiting on the porch at the side. Shivering in the cold. My breath making clouds of cold steam. I hurried to the taxi, cane in left hand, small travelling bag in right hand. I opened the right front passenger…
Preface I started this memoir when I was a patient on Unit 58, Neuro Rehabilitation, of the Foothills Medical Center in Calgary, Alberta. Sunday, September nineteenth, twenty ten I wrote these lines, “Dr. Manfred von Neumann was a prick. A very capable prick but a prick nonetheless. Manny, as he was known to his peers.” I…
