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Showing posts from September, 2020

November 12th, 1971

     We’d been out most of the day, driving from one place to another on a mission to show Cameron and Lee what a real winter was like. Breakfast was ardently enjoyed in a sugar shack, conveniently only a 40 minute drive from the house. The cabane à sucre served a full breakfast— eggs, toast, bacon, ham, sausage, and home fries— in addition to the pancakes, waffles, and made-on-site maple syrup.      The next stop had been the town of Mont Saint Hilaire. The titular mountain is an imposing sight, especially when viewed from the main street, as Cameron and Lee found out. I hadn’t visited the area since I was a teenager and I greatly enjoyed showing off the steep cliffs and thick woods that covered the mountain.      Now, though, we were snug inside Liliane’s home and enjoying the warmth. The snow, which had been drifting lazily down since sunrise, had intensified since we returned from the outing. I estimated that another four ...

November 9th, 1971

    “Did you sleep well?” I asked Cameron as I walked back into the room. I’d just gotten out of the shower but he was still laying in bed, looking disheveled.      “Well enough,” Cameron answered with a huff as he sat up. He rubbed his face and pushed his hair back before turning to me. “You?”      I sat down beside him as I told him I’d slept deeply. “I was warm, too. You kept pulling me into you,” I added with a smile.      Cameron smiled, though a hint of shyness could be seen on his face. “Not shocking, given what I dreamt of.”      “Which was?”      “Your house, when you were a child.” His voice was quiet, but he met my gaze. “I didn’t go inside, or anything like that,” he added quickly. “I just stood on the street looking at it. Were the shutters red?”      I thought for a moment. “No, they were white,” I answered. “Well, they were grey but they started out white. Why?”...

November 7th, 1971

[Liliane’s Perspective]      When our stomachs began to protest, we had been walking around the Mile End neighbourhood to show the band some sights. It was early evening, nearing sunset, and we collectively agreed to stop for a quick bite to eat before heading to La Scène for festivities.      “Is Alec’s place still around?” Emily asked. “We’re right near it, aren’t we?”      She was asking me, as no one in the band would have known the diner even if it bit them on the nose. “Yeah,” I answered. “He’s still on Park. I think he’ll be open until eight, at least.”      “Have you guys ever had Greek food?” Emily addressed her question to the men, who all shook their heads.      “I’ve had Greek, but it wasn’t food, exactly,” Dale smirked proudly.      “I’m sure you have!” I laughed. Lee wasn’t the only one who chuckled at my comment, but it was his laugh I noticed most.      “It’s s...