Every so often, I'll dream of downtown St. Catharines. Not as it is, not as it was, but as it could be. A month or so ago, I dreamed I was walking down the pristine St. Paul St, when we walked into one of the many patisseries dotting the street. I wanted a fresh croissant, while a cupcake had Spitey's eye. Before that, I had walked into a jewelry
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