May 13, 2024

everything else: may letter

dear internet,

my friends are doing the things my mother’s friends did thirty years ago, layering my hometown with full-circle familiarity. i am eating a grapefruit popsicle on the side of the road. i didn’t see the northern lights but i did watch my neighbour open his window to look up with equal hope, and a bat fluttered across the space between our houses. sometimes it can be all ease and grace, like looking at your friend’s plants growing in a square on your computer screen, like saying ‘should be can,’ like turning your face to the wind and your neck to the sun. the other day it was hot and bright, and walking an unfamiliar route i felt like i was in a different city, a city i love, and suddenly, briefly, i loved this city too. 

love,
t