Yes, yes, we know.
We are fossils since we still take delight in the moribund practice of reading books.
Among the many works of fiction that have passed through these old hands, few have been as gratifying as the short stories by O.Henry, the nom de plume of American writer William Sydney Porter.
O.Henry is, of course, best known for the surprise endings in his short stories. There’s invariably a sting in the tail.
The twist-in-the-ending apart, we also like O.Henry’s elegant prose, oftentimes with a hint of mischief lurking close by.
Many years back, in our lost decade as we were were aimlessly trudging down the cold streets of Toronto we came upon an used book store on Gerard St run by an odd couple (an young man who seemingly had a lost air about him and his older seemingly worldy-wiser girlfriend). Continue reading »
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