Tag Archives: Four Seasons

Summer and the city

It’s been an odd summer.

Actually, Summer, maybe it’s not you. I think it’s me.

I feel restless, aimless, and have a hard time focusing. It could be work anxiety. It could be the headlines. It could be that I’m itching to get away but can’t decide where I want to go.  It could be that time is ticking and one day I will be dead. On top of this, my beloved Thoreau keychain broke, which feels symbolic.

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A couple of d-bags at D Bar

The Beast and I met up at the big Chapters at the corner of Bay and Bloor on Tuesday night. I found him in the politics section, gently turning over a tome on ISIS between his hands. “I have to go to the washroom,” I told him.

“Meet me in fiction afterwards,” he said. “I’ll be in the dick section.”

“Excuse me?”

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