It was in her eyes, and it was unmistakable. As much as I tried to turn away, I could not. They drew me in, and it scared me. Because at that moment, I knew. I kept looking over at the others, wondering if they had noticed, hoping, so that they could put a stop to it. They hadn't. There was no stopping it. Not then. Not now.
But I had to try.
"Sorry," I said, "you're too late."
"Or too soon," she replied.
On The Right Honourable Brian Mulroney: An Open Letter to Pierre Poilievre
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Dear Pierre,
Out of respect, I waited to write this until after the funeral of the late
Right Honourable Brian Mulroney.
Respect. It's something that...
3 weeks ago
3 comments:
Would she recognize herself here? Would she concur with you? Intrigued.
Leave them wanting more....
Did it matter ultimately whether she was too late or too early?
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