Eeny Meeny Miney Mo

“You’re late,” Madame McKinnon said for the third time, tugging on the left sleeve of her dress.
She appeared quite content to stay in her armchair. In fact, it appeared to be her favourite pastime – pulling her sleeves and telling people they were late.
“You’re awfully late,” she repeated.
“Yes, Madame, I do apologize, it’s because of the bus, as I said…”
I want to be somewhere else, Marie Bilodeau thought feverishly. Read more →