And saved on the streets

It was a bit tiresome waiting for them to be done in the kitchen. When he first moved in they said he could use it at 8:00 p.m. After they had cooked their dinner and cleaned up. It seemed somewhat reasonable. But the time had extended, and now it was…

Remembering my mother

a photo of the ocean with mountains behind and a blue sky littered with fluffy white clouds

The other night my mother came to me. Her arm rested heavily across my chest in the manner of one who stands behind and drapes themselves across you. The heaviness was comforting and for just that moment I was with her. It was so very real that I thought it…

Singing a different tune

With the profoundness induced perhaps by sunshine and alcohol in the form of a margarita, I am waxing poetic. Only to myself, and only on paper. I am removed from my life for a brief period of time. Transported to an alternate universe where someone provides all my meals, tidies…

Catherine Dunn

old but not dead, mother, partner, grandmother, writer, Canadian Become a Medium member and support great writers like me.

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