East vs. West
Kathleen embraced her mother and welcomed her to Surrey, British Columbia. “They call it the city of trees. Vancouver residents dismiss Surrey as ‘the poor cousin.'”
The Writing Life
Vignettes and short fiction by Susann Camus. Drawn from a natural observer’s eye; humorous, observational, and sometimes connected to themes in the Jeannie Johal thrillers.
Kathleen embraced her mother and welcomed her to Surrey, British Columbia. “They call it the city of trees. Vancouver residents dismiss Surrey as ‘the poor cousin.'”
Four-year-old Lucy looked as if she were about to be shipped off to a junior chef competition. Her hair was wrapped in a rubber turban that covered her forehead.
Peter McCann looked across the table at his eleven-year-old daughter with skepticism. Unlike her older siblings, she was asking to switch school systems, transferring from a large nondenominational English school to a rural institution of learning in their small town an hour away from Montreal.
The snow kept falling. Margaret’s face was red from the biting cold. The lenses on her glasses had fogged up and she could feel the frames numbing the upper edges of her cheeks.
Until she moved to the United States, the only skunk that Khandi had ever seen was Pepé Le Pew, an animated character she remembered from Saturday mornings spent watching Looney Tunes as a child.
At one point, breathable, waterproof neon jackets with lots of pockets were all the rage. Farnham Fabrics congratulated themselves on securing a lucrative contract with Walmart that would guarantee the company’s financial well-being for at least five years.
The nursing station for the hospital’s surgical unit was staffed with three Brown nurses. They were chatting animatedly, expressions vibrant and hands gesturing in all directions.
It was a heartwarming story that could have had such a different ending. The anchor for the early evening broadcast beamed into the camera.
They were stopped on King George Boulevard, just south of the hospital, waiting for the light to turn. Since it was a crisp, clear autumn day, they’d decided on the spur of the moment to stroll through Tynehead Park and visit the salmon hatchery.
“I don’ know why the fish and chips taste as if they come from a box in the freezer,” Liz said apologetically.