Oh, Fudger


On Sherbourne St., there’s a retirement home called Fudger Home for the Aged. Every time I walk by, I wonder if some fibber in there might have tacked a year or two onto his age to qualify to get in.

P.S. I forgot to mention it, but this retirement home is right next door to a funeral home, which is both morbid and convenient. This kind of arrangement doesn’t seem to be unusual either. In high school, I lived between two hospitals and a funeral home. It was only a block or two to get to any one of them. It was like having my whole future mapped out.

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