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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Friday, Oct. 15, 2004 @ 3:58 pm
Of all the places in the city we could go, we go down the tracks. Steel rails, balancing, tight-rope style. Ryan, Chris and I. Take two ties at a time, and we're running, and it's misting. Dry docks on the riverbank, bridges of wooden pallets traverse the slurry ditch and the bramble hedgerow.
I nudge to the far side of the bed and you follow me. Latched onto me. Reverse. Invert. Upside-down topsy-turvy loving advancements.
Family thanks, thanks for loving me too. That yellow kitchen so warm and familiar. Every knob and dial and chipped-paint corner.
Work. Mice mice mice mice. Babies, soft velvet, oh God the handfuls of wriggling soft whiskered noses. Nosing into my hand. Some days I hate it and other days it seems worth it. The old people in the cancer clinic. The young people in the cancer clinic. Scarfs on their heads and the clanking metal of the I.V. wheeling behind them. Gramma you were here once too... I didn't help then.. I didn't know how.. I didn't know you...
The summer happened. Now it is the fall... And Hallowe'en. I love it, my favourite holiday, because you get to become somebody else. This year, this year I'm going to be... falling in love...
Despite the late nights and early mornings there is still time for the roadside ditches. The mushrooms. Running at dusk, in the rain, camera in hand. Or in the morning... searching.. pushing further. I see it all.
I have hawk eyes.
One day maybe I'll be someone.