Bloor Line, too many people and you

Caucasian woman, mid 20s, full brown hair, large sculpted eyebrows. Dressed in a long, slim grey coat, red v-neck top, grey dress pants and leather boots. Walking from pole to pole until she finds a hole and leans hard to steady her weight, to find footing in the hefty text.

Apostrophe, Bill Kennedy and Darren Wershler-Henry (ECW Press)

Page 104:

you are wrong • you are right because someone else is wrong • you
are always on your own • you are still afraid of me • you are all
alone • you are all alone again • you are still alone • you are in a
class all alone • you are the leader and they follow like sheep, they
are and what, yeah, keep on believing you • you are not • you are
listening anymore • you are punk so you rebel against the scene

You are not the reader I expected. You got on at Bay as if fresh from the Lexiconjury reading series of past, eager to dip into this thing you heard for the first time over pints. It's rush hour and your fellow commuters are spilling from one seat to the next, settling in for another thirty minutes of a stranger sitting on their purse strap. And I know you just came from your shift at the Montblanc Boutique. Yet you're surfing this tin pill, heavy book in hand, like you've had a hit of cough syrup and all is okay with the world. Like beer for breakfast on a campsite. You are alone.