I’m sure Atwood is graced like this a thousand times a day, but it happens rarely with me. Last Sunday night, at a reading in Ottawa, pre-Canadian Association of the Health Humanities conference, reading with Jim Johnstone, Amanda Earl, Chris Johnson, and Susan Atkinson, I was sitting at a desk around the corner, overwhelmed by the sound of clinking utensils and conversation, just trying to hold on, my head in my hands, when up comes this fellow, who brought The Reign to the reading and told me of how he read it at one go, on a park bench, and related to me natural details of the reading experience. He explained to me his view of the form I used, and commented upon the character of my people — settler NB’ers along the Saint John River Valley — in such a way that I asked if he was from the Maritimes, and of course he was. Being autistic and look-away-ey, I didn’t notice the shirt until he pointed it out. He wore it to the concert! Haha. At the end of the conversation it turns out he is ***** *********, manager of the Public Lending Right program. He told me of the train that used to take his father and he from the Annapolis Valley to Halifax early in the morning, then back late at night, that train gone now, that community is everything and (my extrapolation) when community is all you have then maybe don’t let them take the trains . . . {Image shared w/ permission to social media}