I look out our window at the crowd — men and women with their shirts and blouses untucked on one side, some holding up sneakers onto which they’ve written obscenities. The people chant my name and that of my wife, Monica. A few also cheer for our daughter, Lori, who runs up to her bedroom and slams the door.
Continue reading “Relentless Pickle by David Henson”
Until the first ‘magical’ incident our harbour was like most others around the country. One side with its fishing industry and the other for the summer tourists. The South Pier reeking of fish guts and the north side either boarded up or packed with visitors stuffing seafood and sugar into their mouths depending on whether it was summer or not. That was until a few years back.
Continue reading “Our Harbour by Paul Kimm”
literally stories 