|An Engagement, August 2011|
|Tranquility, August 2011|
|Nature's Nirvana, August 2011|
I sit at Delany’s. The smell of coffee rises like heat. It wafts through my nostrils. A man sips on his coffee as he walks out the door. Across the street is a falafel stand. The cookie store next to it is now non-existent. An orange and black “FOR RENT” sign hangs in the window; it is as barren as a womb within. People of all shapes and forms walk by. One looks at the ground then back at her phone as she texted some unknown being on the other side. A woman with a sloppy bun atop her head blocks my view. I divert my attention to her. She carries a frothy looking coffee drink in her right hand and plops down at the table and chair outside. She skims through the newspaper and rests the cup in her hand. She takes a petite sip and puts a lid on it, as if signifying the end of an internal argument: to keep it hot or to not? That is the question. She sits still, like a stone statue, and as if by cue she then moves. She rests her chin on the balled up fist on the table. “It’s time to get picky” is the title of one of the articles. It’s unknown if she is reading it, but her lack of movement signifies her devoted reading of something. All the others who were sitting outside have vanished as if by a magic spell. Messy bun girl is perched on the wicker seating alone. An empty mug, a spoon, and a used pack of brown sugar are the only trace of human life. Now it’s my turn to leave. Without looking back, I abandon the girl and instead take a look at Tegan’s rusty green bike chained against a street sign. It’s a day in the life in Vancouver.