It might be high summer all about but inside me everything is fall. The lonesomeness of a sad, slow closing of days, knowing frost is nigh and wind needling through the cabin chinks is just around the bend. That's me, right now.

It might be high summer all about but inside me everything is fall. The lonesomeness of a sad, slow closing of days, knowing frost is nigh and wind needling through the cabin chinks is just around the bend. That's me, right now.

Guy Vanderhaeghe
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It might be high summer all about but inside me everything is fall. The lonesomeness of a sad, slow closing of days, knowing frost is nigh and wind needling through the cabin chinks is just around the bend. That's me, right now.

Guy Vanderhaeghe, The Last Crossing
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She'd whisper to me to take my tiny piece of happiness, hold its honey in my mouth until it melts away.

Guy Vanderhaeghe, The Last Crossing
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History tells us what people do

historical fiction helps us imagine how they felt.
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