The Hunger

 

He slipped into the booth

adjacent to mine

this morning

at the coffee shop

down the street from

my mother’s apartment.

 

He told me his name was Hugh.

When I asked if Louie and Dewey

were coming to join him for breakfast,

he did not appear to be amused.

Perhaps he was averse to ducks –

or cartoons.

 

Hugh was lit from the inside

he seemed both

birthday candles

and birthday cake.

 

Hugh was wearing a

beaded tiger’s eye bracelet

that immediately grabbed

my attention.

 

I had to have one

just like his,

even though

I had long ago

given up jewelry-

even though

I had long ago

given up on men.

 

Hugh told me about Jasmine

who sold her jewelry

on the street

outside of his yoga studio.

Of course

he practiced yoga,

I’m sure he brought

his own mat

made out of

organically grown hemp.

 

After some not so subtle prodding,

Hugh gave me Jasmine’s number.

I sent Jasmine a text and

she replied instantly.

” Come over right away! I live in St Henri”

which meant nothing to me

since I am  directionally challenged

on the best of days.

 

“Is that far?” I asked

“I don’t have a car and I will be

walking with my dog Lucille.”

“It’s not far at all” said Jasmine

“ It should take you less

than twenty minutes.”

 

Except that it doesn’t take us

twenty minutes

or thirty minutes

or even forty,

but I tell

myself I don’t care

because it’s all downhill,

because it’s a sunny day,

because Lucille is happy,

because the eye of the tiger

is calling me home.

 

I enter Jasmine’s home

empty and parched.

She offers us

water from her well,

and invites me to sit

at her cherry wood table.

 

I asked Jasmine if she could make me

the same bracelet as she had made

for Hugh.

“I’m so sorry” said Jasmine

“Hugh is special and I made

that bracelet just for him”

 

And just like that,

with one little snap,

I was banished from the island

where hope and hearth and family

reside and I

most definitely, now never will.

 

My eyes immediately filled with

tears,and as I struggled

to p

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lesbian Chronicles 43: Waiting For The End Of The World

I was so happy to be home alone for the evening. I had my warm almond milk, my Dad’s cookies and was getting ready to settle in  for a night of Reality Television, beginning with my favourite show, The Voice.

But wait!! Did I hear bells? Yes I heard bells and they were not coming from my television, nor from the St. Leon church located directly across the street.

I began looking around my mother’s apartment, thinking perhaps her smoke alarm might be faulty, but just as I was about to look for a step ladder, I heard a disembodied voice come through the wall mounted speaker, “Stay calm, and please evacuate the building.”

Really!! Really!! On my one night sans Maman??

Fine!! I grabbed my jacket, my dog, and my IPhone (never leave home without it!) and at the last minute, my vintage Louis Vuitton bag, the last vestige of my previous Princess life.
I stepped out of the apartment, and wandered the halls looking for the stairs, as panic began to set in.

“What if there really is a fire/emergency? What if some toxic gas was released and even as I try to find the exit, we are slowly being asphyxiated?” I said to Lucille, who wagged her tail in affirmation of my crazy.

I finally found the exit and  started to walk down the eight flights of stairs along with the other D.O.J’s (Decrepit Old Jews). The average age of the building is 85, so as we trudged slowly down the stairs , a woman on the stairs directly in back of me told me that she left her husband on the rooftop, because she couldn’t take him with her!

Of course my barkalicious dog Lucille, didn’t stop barking all the way down since spotting a dog immediately as we entered the stairwell. Selma, ( because now we’re old friends) kept yelling at me “Pick your dog up, pick your dog up! Don’t you see she’s scared??” No Selma, I did not see her being afraid, I saw my five pound dog attempting to take on a Doberman. Oy.

Finally, we reached the lobby, admist the hordes of the aged and infirm, when I made the executive decision to  go outside.  Once out I immediately spotted my mother’s neighbour Nelson, who had the brilliant idea to get some tea.

So there we three were,outside at Starbucks, sipping spearmint tea and waiting for the end of the world.