Wednesday July 13, 2016 at Home Baking Co.
From a sign on a newspaper box
Kim got a Lamborghini Aventador for her seventeenth birthday. I got a box of strawberry pop-tarts and a Graduation card. I wasn’t graduating until next year. Pam doesn’t remember how old I’m turning, or what I like, or that I’m allergic to wheat. Kim texts and asks if I want to go for dinner in Gastown and I tell her that I have to work. I don’t, but I spent my thirty dollars a month allotted for eating out three weeks ago. Kim texts and asks why I always have to work. I tell her that my Mom had to take some time off work because of her leg and I’m chipping in with rent. I see those little bubbles that show that Kim’s typing. They start and then they stop and then they start and then they stop. “#BUMMER”, she finally responds.
Tuesday July 12, 2016
From a text
I don’t remember Scott. I can’t find his face anymore, way back in the very back of my brain. It used to be there, before Jonah and Daisy, and before I had to memorize so much for school. I’m the oldest one there. That probably doesn’t come as a surprise… Jonah laughed when I told him I was going back. He thought that I’d finished my degree. I never lied to him, he just jumped to a conclusion. Scott would do the same thing, we all do, but these two are worse than the rest. Scott would convince himself that someone had said something, something really particular, and he was so persuasive, especially within his own mind, that he would truly believe it had happened. Jonah was six when I saw him do this, for the first time. I was excited, because it reminded me of Scott, and sad. I was really, really sad.
Monday July 11, 2016
From an e-mail
This heat has got you thinking all crazy this heat
has got your thinking like stalactites and radio
waves bottom of the swimming pool bottom of the
forest floor crunch crunch
crunch tread tread
treading water til you land on something familiar but your
feet don’t know the difference or do
they or do they?
Thirty six degrees and you’re wanting
wanting for something sweet salty sweaty
bitterness turns to calcium turns to
a face you recognize
but can’t name
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Overheard on the street
Okay okay okay, I hear you, like, I hear what you’re saying but I think you’re really missing the point, like, you’re missing my point. What I’m saying is that I’ll take the car, but I need you to get it cleaned, like, it’s fucking disgusting in there and no one in their right mind would spend two thousand dollars on a vehicle that looks like that, you’d have to be completely loonie toonie, a complete nut job, like a psychopath – … You get it, I see that you get it. Have you had many other people out to see it? I mean, have you been getting other feedback? Right. Right… No one. I can see it, in your eyes, I’m the first guy whose come out to look at it and, I mean, no offence, no offence at all, I’m not, like, judging you as a person. I don’t think you’re some kind of pig.
Wednesday July 13, 2016 at Starbucks
from a sign on a newspaper box
A couple of us decided we were going to sneak into the Kits pool and I was trying to work up my nerve. Casey and Alison had their trust funds to use if they got caught, but what did I have? Two pennies and a stick? A lighter filled with pocket lint? I told them I was having second thoughts and they both stood there on the sidewalk howling at the sky, trying to get me to cave. I can’t do this you guys, I said, I’m not lucky enough to pull this off. Alison rolled her eyes back in her skull. You think I have a golden horseshoe up my ass or something? I don’t know, I told her, I’m sure you could buy one if you needed to. Casey grabbed my shoulders and stared me straight in the eye. We don’t want to do this without you, she said, but we will if you’re not okay with it. But know this, you will be missing out. I felt like I was being bullied into a licking a frozen lamp post in the dead of winter.