standing in the train station, sipping espresso. standing, eyes closed, absorbing the morning sun. he opens his eyes and watches boats drift through the inlet, the movement on the shipping yards and the quiet brick buildings.

along the wall directly below the window a large black spider hurries by. he does not believe in omens or foreshadowing, but the spider gives him pause. insects don't frighten him, but he always watches them with a sense of unease. he thinks he was probably bitten as a child, though he doesn't remember an incident.

concentration broken, he finishes his coffee and heads outside. morning commuters shove by him as he strolls along the brick walkway in search of something as of yet undetermined.

[06/17/03]

he opened the door and assessed the room. it was empty except for a table and a chair. there was a small window on the right side of the desk that he used to look out of when he was bored. while he often used to write in this room, he had recently found himself incapable of expressing himself through writing.

sitting at the table. turning to his right and watching a crow peck at a red coloured berry. running his hands across the thin film of dust on the tabletop.

now that he had decided on the direction of his next project he had to overcome his fear of beginning. he saw the plot and characters and themes, but could not figure out how he should open the book. in the next room he could hear the kettle beginning to scream.

[06/11/03]

the diaries burned slowly. he opened them up with a stick so they would catch fire quickly. it was his archive, his history, that he was destroying. it wasn't everything, but it was enough to erase the past. the rest of his papers sat in an archive, waiting until after his death to be opened to researchers.

it had taken several weeks of convincing himself that this was the right thing to do. he was burning decades of his memories, things he would soon start forgetting. the fire eliminated the recorded past, but could not destroy the memories that still pressed their way into his mind daily.

after the diaries were completely charred he walked inside and made a pot of tea. he took it up to his study and wrote about the fire, about why he was scratching out the past, preparing for his own destruction. he was anticipating the ongoing disintegration of his mental records.

[06/11/03]

while walking down the hallway they hear something clicking. it sounds like a leaking pipe or a defective elevator switch.

when they pass through the double doors to the adjoining hallway they see a door open and a bearded man, with red hair, holding a screwdriver. he's fixing his door lock, pushing it firmly against the screw's head with a look of panicked concentration. it is early morning.

"hello." no response. the bearded man doesn't look up or acknowledge their presence. they recognize him as the man who always rides the bus with gloves on. it seems he is a hypochondriac. he continues working on his lock.

[06/08/03]

she brushed the slivers of hair from her arm, stopping the story she was telling for a moment, consumed by the annoyance of removing the freshly cut hair.

"i hate it when i get hair slivers. once i noticed my arm was beginning to swell, and i kept scratching it and scratching it. finally, i tried to figure out what was causing the irritation and i found this long white hair, with the root attached and everything, stuck in my arm. it's amazing, hair sticks in you like wood splinters."

he smiled. she talked nonstop through their time together. there were dark rings around her eyes. she owned the shop, and she was concerned she may have chosen a poor location. she had moved back in with her mother to make ends meet, and found that she could hardly sleep.

[06/06/03]

there are two brothers living in a metropolis. one brother constructs buildings for a living. the other brother is a demolitions expert. sometimes the second brother destroys the first brothers' buildings when they are old and no tenants want to move in.

both brothers are kept busy by the desire for new buildings. everyone wants to lease space in the shiniest, fanciest, most technologically equipped building in town. it impresses their clients and attracts new employees. after a time, when a better building becomes available, they move away.

eventually, everyone moves out of a building and the second brother is brought in to destroy it. the first brother is then brought in to build a better building in its place. both brothers make a great deal of money and enjoy their jobs. in some ways, they joke, they work together even though they only visit each other every few months.

[06/06/03]

everyone knew he was overweight. they would joke about how he compulsively pulled at the sleeves of his shirt to prevent the sweat from clinging.

even though they were in grade five they knew the source of his obesity was due to his father being a baker. each day he came to school with fresh baking his father had brought home from the night shift.

his dad did not think his son fat since he was also much heavier than his optimal weight. his doctor had told the father that he ran a high risk of heart failure if he did not stop eating so many cakes and doughnuts. the doctor simply shook his head each time he saw the son.

[06/06/03]

the electric wheelchair careened down the sidewalk, narrowly missing several pedestrians. the driver used both hands to control the driving mechanism and struggled to turn his head enough to view the path ahead.

earlier in the day he had run over a young boy's foot and had bumped a woman into a busy intersection while trying to drive around a crowd.

travelling fast was one of the only thrill he had left. although he couldn't travel as fast as a motorcycle, it was still fast enough to cause serious injury if he came to a sudden stop. he had taken a few minor spills before, requiring the assistance of a few helpful people and twelve stitches, but had never any broken bones.

[06/06/03]

she had bought a new purse today, and secretly hoped that others would take notice of it on her arm. it was a small purse that matched her cream coloured outfit.

though she did not realize it, a man had been following her since she left the shop. his intention was to steal the young woman's purse, yet he hoped to do it in such a way as to not injure her.

he stood next to her at the crosswalk, contemplating the most advantageous moment to grab the purse. she was standing awkwardly, with her arm locked firmly around her recent purchase. he looked to his left and noticed two police officers. when he tried to look at the woman she was gone, having disappeared into the afternoon crowd.

[06/06/03]

aging, peppered hair and a shirt several seasons out of fashion, he felt confident in his sitting next to the most beautiful woman on the transit car. she ignored his presence, fixing the maladjusted strap on her bra. it was only nine in the morning and already uncomfortably hot.

every so often the man would pretend to look out the window beside the woman, tilting his head slightly in order to glance at her breasts. he thought he was being coy because he was wearing dark sunglasses, but several other passengers saw what he was up to and gave him discouraging glares.

he was aware of their dirty looks, his ears reddening slightly, but he continued to peek at her chest. briefly, he enjoyed being the subject of scorn. as the transit line neared termination, he felt an all consuming compulsion to touch her thigh.

[06/06/03]

the house smelt of wood shavings and freshly cut timber. grandchildren played in the kitchen, while the grandmother cooked a stew. when it was time for eating she began to yell out for her husband.

he couldn't hear her, since he was in his woodshop. there was a piece of oak he kept running his hand across. the subtle ridges of the wood grain pleased him. the short block of wood was sanded and free of slivers.

the grandmother sent one of the boys downstairs to fetch the grandfather. she had grown accustomed, over many years, to her husband's continual absence. it gave her time to tend to her garden and enjoy the company of friends and relatives.

[06/06/03]

he had formed his identity in elementary school. the bad kid. everyone knew him, and he understood who he was.

when he graduated and began looking for work, he found his identity didn't fit his intentions. in order to keep his job, which interested him, he changed his appearance and mannerisms so he would appear like one of his coworkers.

this only lasted a few days. he felt uncomfortable and out of place. his old friends laughed at him and his new clothes. wearing a tie, something he had never done in the past, made him feel conspicuous. he quit his job.

[06/06/03]

when the man with the cane approached me on the sidewalk he smiled. though i was busy working, he began to laugh. "if you listen closely you can hear that it's bedtime."

i raised my eyebrow at his curious comment. he continued, "as i was walking along i could hear a kid crying in almost every house. i guess there are a lot of families in this neighborhood."

we both laughed, and he commented on how the last time he could remember crying was when he was a young man breaking up with his first girlfriend. we laughed again before he continued his slow pace past me.

[06/02/03]

the train attendant walked through the empty, decommissioned car to check for stray passengers. this car was headed for the repair yard.

while moving down the aisle he spotted a magazine face down. he picked it up, observed it was a fashion magazine, and carried on.

a few moments later, when he had a break, i watched him read the magazine with a smile.

[06/02/03]