A Tale of the Ghost of Christmas Past
“Come with me, my child.” I glare at the shining spirit. “I’m old—not really a child any more.” It shakes Continue reading
“Come with me, my child.” I glare at the shining spirit. “I’m old—not really a child any more.” It shakes Continue reading
I hate going home for Christmas. It’s not the cookies and beer, the endless bowl games or the high school Continue reading
Jean Gendreau, Writer 