Howdy folks!
Hasn't it been chilly this past week or two? I might be living in the more temperate south now but, with the influx of snow, I've been cold to the bone. As my knees knocked, I couldn't help but think how my northern friends would be coping. It's true that they're made of sterner stuff than us delicate southerners but, nonetheless, the weather has been rather atrocious up there.
Back in the day, about fifty years ago, in fact, I lived up north, in an area called Weatherfield, (rather apt considering that it's terrible weather that's sparked these memories.) At the time I thought I was still being hunted for the murder of that journalist in 1943, and was living in disguise. For a few years I, Fannie Walker, ran the local public house, The Ravers Return, and such fun I had as landlady - births, deaths, marriages, I saw it all. Although always concerned the law would come knocking at my door, it was a very happy time for me.
Breaking news...Worryingly, now I hear that there's just been a terrible explosion, which somehow has caused a tram to hurtle into the road. Some of the residents lie dying, or are seriously injured. The rest are, most likely, traumatised. At this terrible time the residents of Co-ordination Street are very much in my thoughts. I'm not usually a man of faith but tonight I pray.
My regards to you,
Frank
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