Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Spadina streetcar, pulling the book gingerly from her bag.

Caucasian woman, late 20s, with long blonde hair and frameless glasses, wearing a long linen shirt and loose sleeveless top.

Eyre Affair, Jasper Fforde (McArthur & Co.)

Cracking the spine:

My father had a face that could stop a clock. I don't mean that he was ugly or anything; it was a phrase the ChronoGuard used to describe someone who had the power to reduce time to an ultra-slow trickle.

6:30 am: Alarm goes off.
6:32 am: Laptop cover up. Clock adjusting.
6:33 am: Beachball. Feck.
6:35 am: Connected. Email downloading. Horoscope loaded into new tab.
6:42 am: Bath mat down. Lemon depitted and ready for boiled kettle.
6:45 am: Shave? Don't shave. Shave? Don't shave? Shave?
6:53 am: "I got rhythm! I got music! I got my guy! Who could ask for anything more?!"
7:15 am: "Chandra is...addicted to Facecrack."
7:37 am: "Hair up? Hair down? Hair up? Hair down?"
7:43 am: "I wonder if other people talk to themselves this much."
8:12 am: Cram apple, banana and yoghurt into shopping bag and hope the fruit doesn't get too badly bruised.
8:17 am: Out the door. Counting exact change for Starbucks, tall, black bold.
8:36 am: Board streetcar. Head to back. Sit beside a woman with brown hair and a handsome nose, carrying an orange vinyl bag. Try not to stare. The bag is nice. Don't stare. Get out your book.
8:38 am: Is that woman looking at me?

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