Volume 1, No. 1

Ten Dollar Conscience / Williams ... 1

Lynn was relieved to recognize the park outside the bus station. From here, she knew she could retrace her steps home again.
The place had a barren feel apart from that, sliced off on three sides by the SkyTrain and hard working city roads with the park sandwiched between like something going stale but still edible in a transit shop's fridge unit.
Lynn picked up her conference bag, regretting the weight of her laptop on the opposite shoulder and paused a moment to convince herself she really could not get lost. She was home free.
That left thinking space to flinch at the extravagance of the Celtic Harp ordered from a downtown music store as a rather pricey spur of the moment binge. This, in turn, was driven out by the challenge of negotiating strangers and traffic between her and the familiar anonymity of SkyTrain.