The Time Has Come the Walrus Said
The end of childhood on the borderline
The same spring my dad wrote me about my stepmother’s death, my mom got two other letters in the mail. Both of them were from attorneys. They’d been given her address by my father, after having searched for her without success for over a year.
I walked in the door from school. Stomping the snow off my boots. It snows in Edmonton well into May. “My sister…
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