Week 36, 2026: Forgivable sins
Oh you should’ve seen me when I was sick. I get into this state of contentment where my wellness is the only thing on my to-do list and anything else is a bonus. Coming down with something means not playing catch-up. It’s good enough to lie supine and take shots out of a diabetes-friendly cough syrup. I don’t have diabetes, I just like to take my cough syrup like I take my coffee.
Then there was the big thunderstorm that warranted a city-wide emergency alarm. Is this my life now? Moving to countries that send emergency alarms? Tucking and rolling from missiles and thunderstorms? I’d overheard a guy in my local cafe saying he likes to treat thunderstorms like a party; it’s a chance to stock up on beer and kick up his feet. He knew about the thunderstorms. So did Rebecca. She’d been watching the clouds that morning and saw the evil headed towards the city.
I was in a streetcar when it started, oblivious to what was to come. A woman jumped on, so soaked from the rain she was laughing in disbelief. We locked eyes and I started laughing with her. She came and sat across from me. I pointed at her torn paper bag with my closed umbrella and said I can see your pepper and we both laughed again.
When I felt the sickness leave me, I took my mug out for a walk for the next few mornings. Sipping and pacing and hello and thank you and into the big Walmart with my mug. I’d found a small box on the kitchen counter and it mystified me so much I put on my shoes and left the flat to run through the scenarios. Can an eviction notice fit into a box that small? I asked my friend on the phone. I got you a little something from Italy, my flatmate texted me a day later. I’m not going to think about what this means.
On Saturday, I took the train with Rebecca all the way to Scarborough to check out a bird sanctuary. She was wearing the shoes I liked and I was wearing the blue jays cap. I'm so impressed by her. She knows so much about trees and clouds. I like the way she pronounces her Ts, like water and Toronto.
I thought a sanctuary was like a zoo in being an enclosed space with bathrooms and staff but it turns out that a sanctuary is just a big park. It took me an hour to silently learn this and subsequently feel silly for the times I’d repeatedly said I wonder if this is the way to the sanctuary as I looked around for an enclosed place with bathrooms and staff. She kindly lent me her pair of binoculars and said she could use the zoom on her camera to spot faraway birds. We spotted a cardinal and a woodpecker and a hummingbird and two blue jays!
After chit-chatting for a few hours, we parted ways on the train, feeling spent and dusty and hungry. I went into a nearby chippy and ordered a post-sanctuary feast (cod and chips, zero-proof corona, fried mars bar and vanilla ice-cream). I had planned to read but kept being distracted by maybe the friendliest server in the world, so I set my Kobo aside and gave her my utmost attention.
Sunday was so nice and eventful too because I’d been invited to a BBQ at Mo and Anja’s. They were so lovely, giving me a house tour and offering me kombucha. I conversed with them and their other guest while they prepped, chopped and grilled. I was so nervous the entire evening about doing the right thing because they all seemed like real people and I was a girl who showed up in a backpack. The first thing the guest said when he saw me was beautiful smile and that felt good because it gave me something to do. Even if I didn’t know the right thing to say or do, I could at least flash a smile.
I see you’ve invited two of your single friends for this dinner, he said and I smiled again, feeling bashful. I was so charmed by this self-proclaimed womanizer who was fifty years my senior, so charmed that I could feel him building real tension that had to be dissipated by the hosts. The BBQ dinner in the back garden was delicious, the company mirthful. We ate and laughed plenty. I hope to have many more nights like this. I overstayed by an hour or two but I'd like to think that's a forgivable sin.