Tall–looseknit–dark-skinned–big brown eyes that could cry grandly without making her face ugly–sad eyes that it took nothing at all to fire and make sparkle. That funny joker, life, had mated her to a scrunched-up whipper-snapper of a man, with feet that took girls’ boots and with narrow, white hands.
Mother and daughter came looking for a flat, not in the ordinary way–asking about this and that, looking out of the windows to see what view they would have. They did not note the colour of the walls, but poked and felt everything, smoothed their fingers over surfaces, spaced…
A young lawyer and his mother lived in Lower West. They were big, heavy-footed people. Every night between twelve and two the lawyer son came home to the flat. First he slammed the gate, then took the steps at a noisy run, opened and shut the heavy front door…
hosted, designed & maintained by Marilyn Jones for the walks & talks, bus tours and presentations she offers on Emily Carr in-person and online from Victoria, BC.
