Grave Concern, page 34
“What ‘oh my God’? It’s just Grinning Greta, trying to scare me off so Krebs and Krebs can grab the few remaining bits of market share they haven’t already. Doesn’t bother me a bit.”
“I’m glad,” said Leonard. But he didn’t sound glad in the least.
“You make it sound so ominous. Greta’s just an overgrown schoolyard bully.”
“Sorry. Sorry,” said Leonard. “I don’t mean to scare you. Just forget I said anything. I’m sure you’re right, Kate. It’s just stupid. Stupid stupidity. Burn it and move on.”
“I intend to,” said Kate, her brow furrowing despite her best efforts, thereby more deeply entrenching her fleshy forehead’s hated corduroy. “A gal’s gotta do what a gal’s gotta do, right?”
“Exactly what I was thinking. You’ve been reading my mail,” said Leonard lightly, but Kate sensed a berm of worry behind the words. She forced a laugh anyway, and held out her cup. With a genuine, if slightly strained smile, Leonard clinked it with his water glass.
“Correction,” she said. “You’ve been reading mine.”
About the Author
Photo by Shawn Wagar
Judith Millar’s 1992 fiction collection, The Rules of Partial Existence, explored themes of escape and difference in the exotic setting of post-hippie-era Nepal. Grave Concern, her first novel, returns to her Ontario roots. Millar’s fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and reviews have appeared in literary magazines and anthologies including Prairie Fire, The Dry Wells of India, and Dandelion as well as in trade magazines such as Explore and AlbertaViews. With a BA and MA in English, she worked for many years as a freelance writer, editor, and college instructor. She lives with her family in Calgary.
Judith Millar, Grave Concern
