These were taken in various years of the past 15 and butchered edited using prehistoric “artistic effects” this evening.
Not in chronological order, because my mind has a lot of bones to pick with linearity.
Some places look the same every December, like the lights in trees by a hospital entrance.
One image seems particularly trivial — the shiny & galaxy-print clothes. That was an online order I received in December 2020, the day before an absolutely terrified me had to fly. I was in three major Canadian airports that week. All eerie. I remember all of the five people I saw in Vancouver International.
I wonder if the Fairmont Macdonald Hotel has a habit tradition of assembling gingerbread in its own image. This was in 2013.
The year that followed that clear-ish photo of me was a challenging one. And this is how I hedge — it was, in fact, a miserable year. Some endings are a lot more drawn-out and painful than a piece of paper called “certificate of divorce” can show.
Oh, Secret Santa. I had the same not-great idea twice — if Santa is supposed to leave letters, why not make them ransom letters? The first time, the sight of the letter frightened our department’s admin assistant; the second time, the recipient did not visibly react. He may have figured it was me. It would have been so like him to not want to give me the satisfaction. We had a respect-dis relationship of sorts, with occasional almost-paternal vibes from him, even if he was just a few years older than me. The first person ever to say “I think you have ADHD.” (He did.) He knew a bit of my history and, one time, he wanted to meet up (likely to make sure that I hadn’t chosen — again — to date someone with the cognitive and emotional abilities of a boiled carrot), but forgot. I didn’t quite forgive him in time. During the pandemic, he passed away.
(And here’s the writerly question: what will those simple last three words convey? Will they carry any emotion over and, if so, how? There’s no way the few preceding sentences of context can describe or account for the disenfranchised grief and non-closure for a friendship that remained situational.)
Prairie sunrises, singing on big stages, hot tea, stepping on rainbows, December light filtering through.