Tuesday, June 19, 2007

April to June


How does it happen that I'm suddenly walking down 2nd Avenue in Whitehorse, the conversation of three German tourists being blown back to me by rainy wind, grateful for the rain, as it is otherwise just dusty wind? The traffic politely stops as I'm crossing the street. And I'm struck by the serenity of anonymity. A whole five local people know why I'm here, who I am, what I do. I have no expectations on me, no strict agenda, no working cell phone.


I buy a bottle of wine at the closest CB&W. All liquor is stashed behind Plexiglas, as is the clerk. As I'm walking out, three Harleys pull up. I smile.


Crossing the street again, a gust of wind blows my hair in my face and I'm temporarily slowed. I look up after wiping the red back and a car is sitting four feet from me. Patiently waiting for me to find my bearings. The driver waves as I smile sheepishly.


I turn my hotel room key in my pocket as I round the corner. Alone is good when you really are. The wood stairs creak as I ascend. Half the rooms have doors open to keep the hot air moving. Snippets of tv shows drift into the hallway. An Australian complete with khakis and chapeau passes me, and utters g'day. Unreal.


I wonder what Alan Shore will get up to tonight.