Nothing about the bustling waterfront around me suggested 1844. The wooden sailing ships that had once relied upon wind, tide and stars were gone. Engines, radio and radar belonged to a future beyond imagination.
A Mélange of memoirs, fiction, short stories, verses, book reviews and uncorked angst.
Nothing about the bustling waterfront around me suggested 1844. The wooden sailing ships that had once relied upon wind, tide and stars were gone. Engines, radio and radar belonged to a future beyond imagination.