Friday, October 26, 2007

Huck Finn meets R. Kelly

After hours in non-descript subdivisions I emerged out on to the Saskatchewan River largely by accident. I stood there watching the moon shimmer on its icy surface and admired its silent progression across my field of vision. It was tranquil and the sort of moment that I had been waiting to happen out here. Then I promptly pissed down my leg.

On its steep bank I stood and watched as a heavy train ruined the silence. Its loud clunks reminded me of heavy bicycle chains failing into their rusted gears. You could feel it pass in your chest and it was like you were clasping your hands over the ties, your fingers meshing with the wheels and tracks. With nothing else but a cool breeze in the air, it dominated the entire landscape so much that you were apart of it.

Under that flat moon and across from unknown expanses of prairie I thought about the time I predicted the future. I saw it moments before it happened and watched as a young woman suffered pain and humiliation tripping on the street in Sydney. I wonder if anyone would have predicted that I would have pissed all over myself by the gentle waters of the Saskatchewan River.


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