It starts the same way every day. “Bruce!” she will yell into the house that has always been much too big for them; bought by her daughter with the broken promise of seeing their grandchildren more.
“Bruce!” she will shout again from her ‘office’ – the spot on the end of the couch that she will occupy most of the day; where she will receive her coffee, nap, watch the talking heads on TV and vehemently refuse to acknowledge that her favorite ‘gal’ on Canada AM is gay.
“Bruuuuuuuuuuuuce!!” she will holler again, “Where arrrrrrre youuuuu?”
John's Writing 