Oh to be here.
Third-floor flat with a balcony looking out to where the polar bear cubs wrestle until their mothers give them a look, and they scamper back to the den. That part lovely, but winters spent living on dried whale whenever the trains can’t get through from Winnipeg with their car-loads of tinned tomatoes, jars of applesauce, and crates of Florida lemons, their middles all frozen, to help liven it all up.
my new envisioning/short fiction piece. Please click through the link to read the rest. Around 285 words so not too long a read. Thanks!
https://sarahbguestperry.substack.com/p/an-envisioning-1932-and-winter-turning
