“What day is it?” asked the doctor at emergency.
“Friday,” Mom replied.
My brother Alex mouthed, “Lucky guess.”
What month is it?” asked the doctor.
“It’s the end of the month,” she insisted. It was. But a pretty vague answer.
“What year is it?”
“1987.” Off by over 30 years.
“How did you hurt yourself?”
“A Russian man held me kidnapped for 2 weeks.”
That’s when they called in the dementia expert. Mom scored 9 out of 30 on her cognitive
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[genre: non-fiction, humour] His Highness and I were on a nature walk with Dingo and Wiley, looking forward to watching Canada Geese migration. The dog and puppy running, herding, and using logs and debris as an agility course seemingly custom designed for their Blue Heeler joy and enlightenment. Overhead, the harsh cries of Canada geese signal their annual migration to warmer southern climes. There were over 100 honking along in several untidy V formations. No sign yet of the single straggler that
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[Genre: fiction, humour, short story]
The child slumped through the front door after school. Despair hanging above her head like a plump rain cloud.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I have to write a poem.”
“That doesn’t sound so hard.”
“About pirates.”
“You can do it.”
“Why didn’t they ask us to do something good, like a poem about chocolate cake?”
She was extremely poetically challenged. I could understand her misery. I thought for a few moments, thinking
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