He roars out a song in a voice that is sweet--I wonder how that happened?
Of grandeur that's gone, rare viands to eat,
And treasure that used to be laid at his feet.
He picks up his phone, faded, wrinkled and torn,
Though banded in ermine, moth-eaten and worn,
And held at the throat by a twisted old thorn.
Made it to the Dufferin Mall and located my watchmaker's stand, today operated by a slender south Asian woman, presumably daughter of the regular…
Sinking in a gentle pool of gin and tonic. Screw courage to sticking point, figure Friday before holiday weekend will be empty at gov't offices, get…
Because if you do, you'll miss August. No idea where this month went to. Things that happened last week were three weeks ago and change. Two nights…