The hidden years in Canada 64, bad folk
Bad folk. I felt a dark presence, like I used to feel when my father was about. I shook it off me but as we walked towards the door it took on grotesque forms, I stopped and said, ‘I do not know if this is such a good idea.’ ‘Come on we’ll go for it,’ laughed Bev, relax, ‘hop in.’ ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ sai...