Ottawa: Dow’s Lake

ottawa Our light-hearted exploration is halted by a resonant boom. We are frozen on the ice of Dow’s Lake, staring at each other, waiting for someone to explain.

“I’m not happy about the fact that you assume you will spend every weekend at my place.”
“But that’s okay. Any time you want a weekend alone you can just tell me.”
“I sort of want it the other way around.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if I want you here I’ll invite you.”
This is how our relationship ends with both a bang and a whimper.

“Now, can you do the hammer?”
“Can anyone do the hammer?”
“Paul could. He never did it because it scared us. But he could do it.”