Life in progress


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Twenty to Twelve

It’s twenty to twelve on “T” day (not that I’m keeping track or anything), and I’m tired. Been looking at the screen most of the day, trying to get my book edited.

But now all I can think about is Toronto. The city where I was born. The city where ten people died today after getting run over by a truck on the sidewalk. Those poor innocent people.

It’s horrifying to know it can happen anywhere, at any time. It’s horrifying that so many of us are become desensitized to it. It’s horrifying that it’s not as horrifying as it used to be, even a couple of years ago, when multiple people died by a senseless, violent act.

Is this what we’re coming to? Or is it what we, as a species, always were?

So many questions for such a late hour. I’m at a loss.