Needless to say, I am not a crawler. I strut, I catwalk, I promenade and boulevardier, but the non-mechanical horizontal mode of transportation is not for me. As we were walking into Cantic, Ypres tried to cheer me up by saying we were indeed lucky that our crawl from the tracks underneath the train to… Continue reading The Little Matter of Montreal – Part II (deux, to the initiated)
“English or French? Français ou anglais ?” I made my declaration: “British! Britannique !” My declaration was not unlike Florence Nightingale accosting a Cossack in the Crimea, or wherever she used to hang out on Saturday nights. The pose which went with it, I felt, was appropriate. That is, as much as someone can pose while sitting… Continue reading The Little Matter of Montreal – Part I
Dear Vasanistas, It has been a while since our favourite duo featured on these pages. Rest assured. As promised back when I finished Park Avenue or Bust!, they will be back. You will soon find out what happens to Vasa, Ypres, Cousin Andrew and Beaconsfield-Outremont as they cross the border into Canada in a short… Continue reading Vasa and Ypres return (briefly)
Dear Vasanistas! At last, two years after the publication of Vasa and Ypres: A Mayfair Conundrum, the second Vasa and Ypres full-length adventure is here! Park Avenue or Bust! is available for pre-order as an e-book and paperback on Amazon. Tell all who will listen, and get ready to draft those five-star reviews. In Park… Continue reading Vasa and Ypres’s Latest Book: Park Avenue or Bust!
I stood bemused. Although, can one consider it standing if one is travelling sixty kilometres per hour in a northbound direction? I made a mental note to ask Ypres. Getting back to my predicament, the reason of my bemusement was the unappealing menu poster I was facing in the Amtrak train bound for Montreal. It… Continue reading Chapter XXXIX – Bust!
I would have rather forgotten the scene. Beaconsfield-Outremont lay on the hot pavement of Park Avenue. His Lexington Red short shorts, being too tight, had ripped on impact. The ice cream that had been his companion moments before had landed on his face, strawberries nearby, as if arranged by Jackson Pollock. Here was a twisted… Continue reading Chapter XXXVIII – Or!