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Thanks Erica once again for this prompt! Here is my story for this sunny Friday. https://arrivalsanddepartures.substack.com/p/forgotten-letter

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I am glad my weekly posts nudge so many amazing stories every time.

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Yes! You’re the catalyst for this!

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Lunch in France is an occasion. It is a compelling reason to take a break and concentrate on conviviality. Fromage and friends. Our lunchtime guest is travelling through France to Spain where he’ll harvest grapes for six weeks. He is a wine merchant who supplied our delicatessen back in the day. He knows we know food which obliges us to put on a ‘spread’. Brie de Meaux, Ossau Iraty, local goat cheese. Ironically, no wine, save for the house gift he delivers. Patisserie for dessert. Conversation and calories. It is a deliciously old-school way of being. We embrace it wholeheartedly.

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‘Twas a chilly winter’s morning

No sliver of sunshine to be found

Armed with a flask of hot chocolate

I soldiered through my ward round

‘We need a hand in here!’

The shout echoed down the corridor

I turned to find the frenzied voice 

coming from behind the mortuary door 

An emergency in the mortuary -

What the heck could this be?

Death? That ship had sailed

and was a long way out to sea

I rushed to assess the situation 

Frankly fearing what I would find

If a Lazarus was behind that door

I would really be in a bind

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A little sneak peek into one of the most interesting medical emergencies I have ever responded to. Will be sharing this in a couple of weeks - stay tuned!

https://diariesofadoc.substack.com/p/into-the-unknown

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Erica wrapped up her writing on Substack for the day, setting it aside. She never expected to be whisked away into the future, but when she stepped through her front door to walk outside, some sort of portal had opened up.

Erica understood immediately that she was still in front of her house, just like she expected, but her front yard had been transformed into a sea of solar panels–or at least that’s what they looked like.

Caught in her tracks, she looked back at where her house once was, and saw something she’d never forget: I’ll describe that later.

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A poem about something that is long gone - the small-town movie house.

Up the stairs the secret hides -

Here where the magician resides -

Threading the ribbon of a perfect dream -

Lighting the arc to cast a beam

Through smoky space – to the silver screen !

Noble knights in bright chain mail -

Wagons on the Westward trail -

Bows and arrows – Indian braves

Glittering treasure in secret caves!

Pirates in three cornered hats

Clever little mice and crafty cats -

Smart detectives catching crooks -

Beauties with come-hither looks

Romantic heroes – tall and lean

Whose passionate kisses fill the screen.

So –

pay your penny - and live the dream!

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Hello. Here's mine for today, part of my Summer of Magic series (2 of 8) 😊

https://moodling.substack.com/p/infinity-and-beyond

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