Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are one-third of the way from the Winter Solstice to the Vernal Equinox. Spring seems far away if you live north of the Florida border. My apologies to those of you suffering heat waves and wildfires. Maybe you can bookmark this space until the fires move back to North America. Continue reading
Emily paused to look at the crowd on the platform of the Central Station in Montréal. She saw Hilda making her way through the relatives and hurried commuters to the tall blonde standing behind the crowd, keeping her bicycle from hitting anyone. Continue reading
Jacques came home at six. Supper was a silent affair, with the TV continuing to carry wild speculation about Emily’s fate and no calls from their friends in law enforcement. After dinner, Hilda called Katherine. Continue reading
Monday morning, Jacques rode to work, promising to come home for lunch with any developments or ideas at his end. Hilda and Jack promised to call if the authorities came up with anything. Jacques made sure that he had their cell numbers before he left. Continue reading
Sitting out in the restaurant, Jack paid the bill. They waited.
“Jack,” said Hilda. “Did you notice the two men at the bar?”
“Not the same ones.”
“Yeah, but guys don’t go to the restroom together.” Continue reading
The next morning, Jack and Hilda were surprised to wake up well after dawn. Donning the white terry bathrobes and slippers on the bathroom door, they crept downstairs to find that no one was stirring in the house. Jack started the kettle while Hilda scooped coffee into the French press on the counter. They were putting out some juice and dishes when Emily came into the kitchen, also in a robe. Continue reading
“Remember Maryse?” asked Hilda, as they snapped the loose dirt off the ground cloth and folded it.
“No. Should I?” Jack wiggled his eyebrows. Hilda rolled her eyes. Continue reading