Jane and I drove to South Terrace to pick up an admission form for St Andrews hospital where Jane was to have a medical procedure. After hastily parking my Suzuki, I walk towards the entrance of the hospital. While walking, I fiddle in my jacket pocket for my mask. My mobile phone must have wrappedContinue reading “Robert Schmidt: My Mask Day Blues”
Want to see what the BWG has been up to? Check out our latest writing.
Burnside Writers Group 