The time I went to the southern shore of Lake Scugog to see members of my extended family, I was late. Of course nobody said it out loud, but I reminded an awful lot of people of my great uncle who kept his own time no matter what the occasion.
I can only imagine that from the dawn of humanity’s advanced knowledge of hours, minutes and seconds, my family has produced at least one person in every generation who has always missed the cukoo.
Read the Rest
A little taste of short fiction from my files.
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