“You’re from Whitehorse, cool. What’s there to do in Whitehorse anyways?” I asked the nameless girl from, of all places, Whitehorse. I’ve chosen to protect her identity and not use her real name for two reasons. First, I don’t have the foggiest idea on how to contact her to ask permission. And perhaps even more importantly, I can’t remember her name for the life of me. Continuing with the story… [read more]
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