“Don’t turn off your computer” by Julia at Platform 7

Wednesday April 13, 2016 at Platform 7
5 minutes
from the update installation screen

For the first time in a month of coming here, the man with obnoxious voice and even more obnoxious ponytail is not working in the cafe that I am borrowing as my office. I don’t mean to say I miss him-I don’t- but I’ve come to expect him and now things feel a bit off.
I spilled coffee into my laptop bag, and into my laptop keyboard, and onto my table, and into the self-deprecating narrative that I’m the kind of person who spills liquids on all the things that should never get wet.
I waited in line for the single-stall bathroom for the duration of “Another Day” from the Rent soundtrack because I could hear someone doing a million weird things inside and I didn’t know how long was reasonable to wait before I decided to stop waiting.
Nothing else bad has happened. I don’t think it’s obnoxious ponytail accent’s fault for not being here- I was just trying to connect some dots that don’t need connecting while my computer updates itself and tells me not to shut off until it’s done. It’s done now. It doesn’t take long to restart or update but I always think it will. Maybe that’s a reminder for me when I make excuses for staying married to bad habits…

“Each person comes into this world” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Saturday January 31, 2015
5 minutes
from a quote by Osho

I’m inspired by THIS GIRL
She leaves her stuff unattended
She’s not restricted by fear
like the rest of us

A Mac laptop
Three books
A handful of pens and an
Orange highlighter

They beg me to steal them
Especially the pens
They looks like they have out-of-this world

She’s gone for longer than
a pee
She’s gone for a solid
walk around the block

Back like nothing happened
Like I didn’t touch the soft
supple aluminum of her

Computer’s head

“safety matter to us” by Sasha on the Bathurst bus

Tuesday, February 11, 2014
5 minutes
TTC subway poster

Sometimes she becomes a sloth
She sits
Warm computer on her thighs
Cup of lukewarm tea on the windowsill behind her
And she travels
Via screen
To places she might not get to before she wins the lottery
Mostly other women’s kitchens
Mostly women with children and nice cameras and gardens with fresh herbs
She’s embracing her sloth-dom
She used to fight it
With the “rush” epidemic
With the “yes” curse
She used to fight it
With coffee
And chocolate
And bagels
Not today
Today she rubs her sloth-body
She slow roasts tomatoes with garlic and rosemary
She let’s the darkness of the setting sun
Pull the brightness from the room where she sits
Where she’s sat
And she let’s the couch hold her
Like a friend
She let’s the screen take her
to islands and mountains and risotto and dragonfruit

“He blushed and sat back down.” by Sasha at Ideal on Ossington

Thursday February 21, 2013 at Ideal Coffee
5 minutes
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
David Eggers

He asks me to watch his computer and his jacket, red and blue plaid. He goes down the stairs to the bathroom. I have the undeniable urge to slide over the restored church pew and read whatever his screen says. I don’t even care if it was something anti-climatic, it would be so clandestine. Beirut play on the coffee shop stereo and we all, every one of us, bob our heads, unquestioning and assuming only the regularity of the heartbeat of the song.

He returns. His hands must be a bit wet. Can’t have had time to dry them. He smiles a sideways, “thank you.” I realize that I know him. Oh my god. We danced together at a bar once, twelve hudred and a handful of days ago.