My father, deceased for some years already, would have been very happy being in prison. Not because of the food, the filth or the confinement. But because in his salad days he was a crime reporter for the Montreal Star, a daily newspaper that closed […] See more
I awake in a sweat, dazed and disoriented. I turn my pillow over to the dry, cold side underneath, and think: a few seconds ago, I was walking along Sherbrooke Street on a sunny summer’s day, rummaging through second-hand bookstores. Not now. My eyes adjust […] See more
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