(no subject)

[bannion_sight]

It's almost true winter, even if it is only November. The dark branches of now-leafless trees are lined with the same snow that covers the ground, blanketing Toronto in a clean and shining white.

Here in Nathan Philips Square, however, lawyers and civil servants have much less appreciation for the pristine and icy beauty as they pick their way carefully over slippery sidewalks. City Hall at lunchtime is a busy place, as is the Mackenzie King Dining Room on the far side.

Comments

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"She's going ahead with it," says Paul.

His tone is expressionless; and in his head, the memory a cheerful voice: Also there is a baby, I think. You should hold it, perhaps.

A cheerful voice, and a baby doll - plastic, charred and burned.

Consider it practice.

[inthetapestry]

Oh, Jennifer.

Golden she had been, from inside the sorrow.

Kevin will not forget that, not in all the days of his life.

Oh, Jen.

[bannion_sight]

Kim nods, looking up directly at Paul.

"She is."

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"All right," Paul says, abruptly; and rises from the table.

"All right. It's my turn now."




Arrow of the God.