SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Bright Lights - Friday, Nov. 27, 2020
On Why I'm an Activist for Women in Engineering - Wednesday, Nov. 25, 2020
Comedy Routine - Friday, Nov. 20, 2020
Night Running in the Rain - Friday, Nov. 13, 2020
Appreciation Notes - Thursday, Nov. 12, 2020


Friday, Nov. 27, 2020 @ 8:38 pm
Bright Lights



I walk out along the ocean as a weather system approaches. The horizon is black with storm clouds. Rain begins to fall, soaking into my white floppy toque.

I walk back towards the heart of my neighbourhood, a bustling strip of small shops and take-away restaurants. A holiday display lights up the night, and I stop pause to take a closer look, in no rush to go home to my apartment. Tired of being alone, indoors.

As I turn towards home, a man speaks to me.

“It’s nice, right? The one thing that hasn’t been cancelled.”

I laugh and quickly study him. Younger than me. Not very tall. Warm, intelligent, gentle. I decide that I like him. I reach into my pocket for my mask, as we begin to talk. He mirrors my movements, and soon we are walking along the sidewalk together, both wearing our masks, navigating around the sandwich boards.

Is he trying to pick me up? I don’t know. I guess yes but play along anyhow as it’s all benign.

In these grey times of measured and limited socializing, this moment is a spark. A small bundle of energy like a songbird held gently in my hands. I could say one thing my entire life could change in a flicker of a blink.

We stand together in the rain on the street corner. People stream around us. Traffic ebbs and flows as the lights change.

“Would you give me your number?” he asks.

“I have a lover,” I answer.

I study his brown eyes, the way that his soft brown skin glistens from the fallen rain. Creases at the corners of his eyes. Maybe he’s not that much younger than me.

Why is this the most memorable moment of my day, of my week?

How will we ever escape this labyrinth of suffering?


Roots | Shoots