Vanier

I purposely don’t come to this part of town anymore. It’s not that the sidewalk’s cracked or that there are shadows of things I can’t explain in corners, but the memories that flood through my brain when I cross these streets. 

I never thought I’d get to experience some of the things I did. It was passion and loss. What I remember about being in love is that it was frustrating. I’m not in love anymore. I stopped writing love poems and started writing about being alone. 

I also stopped looking for happiness provided by another human being and it changed me. I was no longer seeking acceptance. I turned my back on my old life and as I walked away, I could feel that what was next was even better. 

The end of summer

The crickets are louder this year, no one knows why. As summer flies through the city, I work. A nearby conversation I overhear reminds me of the word "spinster" and this becomes what I call myself. The older you get, the smarter you are. People's tricks become easier to navigate. Maybe things hadn't fallen into place, but they were closer to it. 

The end of the summer always reminds you of crunchy orange leaves and snowstorms, but maybe this winter wouldn't be that bad. Besides, I was getting used to the frigid cold, the slippery ice and digging the car out of its parking space. Life's all about acceptance.

The watch on my wrist tells me the time but mostly I ignore it and as the daylight hours shorten, I kiss the sun goodbye.