by Richard Crouse – Toronto, Ontario, Canada
A few years ago I hosted some events at Fan Expo in Toronto. In between shows I sat in the greenroom, usually with my face buried in a newspaper or a book. One afternoon as I sat reading I felt someone come sit at the table with me. They didn’t say anything and I didn’t look up. It was so crazy busy on the floor; everyone was enjoying the relative tranquility of the greenroom and staying to themselves.
Continue reading A Moment
For 13 years I have gone back and forth between St. John’s and Montreal…between Montreal …and St.John’s. St. John’s and Montreal. And so has Marilyn – the first time we met was in 1989, she’d come into the Continental Cafe in St. John’s between 3 and 5 for toast and tea. We’d let her stay as long as she didn’t make too much ssshh (noise)!…
Continue reading Marilyn
I see a photograph of myself. In it I was on the bus travelling north to Tehran. We were going to visit friends, but that is not so important to the story. I was sitting alone because he was not talking to me. We were driving through the flat, dry landscape of my dreams, like the movies. I was wearing a maghnae, like a schoolgirl would wear, or a nun’s wimple. It’s tight around my face, but easier than wrestling with a headscarf that slides off my hair too easily. This particular day there was a stray hair sticking out, under my chin. I remember trying to locate it, unsuccessfully. It was troubling me. In the photograph I can see it, under my chin. That little hair sticking out reminds me of how I felt that day. Resigned. As much as I may have tried to tame the stray bits, one always found its way out of its cover.
Continue reading Hair Out of Place