20080530

Looked

Stopped at the light, I turn around and look behind me; she's caught up again. I ask her if she's ok. She gives a drawn out hesitant yes, "yeeesssss," followed by a but and a twist of her leg so that I can see the long red line running up her calf; little droplets of blood peeping out from the cut.

A few blocks back, I had just passed a guy weaving erratically back and forth out of his bike lane. When I crossed the street I heard behind me a screached, "yiiiiii," and the crash of spokes, metal, and bodies hitting the ground. Pressed the brakes, pulled over to the side and looked back: two bikes and two bodies on the bike path. I stood there watching while they both got up, the girl who had been behind me for quite some time, keeping pace with me, she was clutching and massaging her leg. I looked forward again, put my foot on the pedal, hesitated, and then continued on.

20080516

Two twenties

The wallet I find on the street has a bus pass, but no ID. No medicare card, no driver's license, no bank or credit cards. In the clear plastic sheath meant to house a picture, there's the little card with lines for your name, address, and phone number. It's blank. The place where you put your money has forty dollars, two twenties; that's almost enough to pay my living expenses this week. I pull the blank card out of it's sheath, and, flipping it, I see that those lines are filled in.

A man opens the door after I ring the buzzer. He looks me over, the guy standing in front of his door with one arm behind his back, and I ask him if his name is the one indicated on the card in the wallet. He says yes, and the hand that was behind my back comes forward, offering his wallet to him. He takes it and I turn to go. He says, "wait a minute," and opens the wallet to count the money. Two twenties. Without looking up he says, "ok, thanks," as he closes the door.

20080514

Chocolates for Valentine's Day

It was the first year of secondary school when I gave someone chocolates for Valentine's Day. I'm pretty sure the first word I ever said to her was, "here." I don't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything so lengthy as, "these are for you." And then I went directly to the toilet. She, for her part, didn't say anything to me when I gave them to her, nor in the next four years we were in school together.

The only acknowledgement of my act I ever got, was that my friends, who I had not told about this either before or after, made fun of me for years.