The Great Tide Pool

“Maybe I should buy a capricorn mug. Damn they’re sold out. I swear that’s a trait of capricorns: they buy shit with their sign on it.”

My brother is in town and we’re sitting on my balcony and the sun is shining and it is warm and beautiful and a girl walks by wearing a heavy coat and she’s trudging on the sidewalk and her face is stern and set and miserable looking and I say, “She looks miserable” and Will yells at her “Cheer up” and I say, “That’s not nice to say” and he asks “Why?” and I say “What if she’s upset that her cat just died?” and he says, “Well then she needs to know that that is in the past and move on” and I scoff and sip my beer.

Grant’s bunny underneath Grant’s bar.

Me on a Yacht.

Tony cooking dinner.

“You made the experience of English about as enjoyable as possible for a first year science student trying to escape it.”

Included in a thank you note at the back of an exam. Smart kid.

An otter sent me a postcard reminding me to renew my membership at the aquarium. What can I say to a face like that? How can I make it make sense to him? I’ll go and visit to say goodbye. That’s the right thing to do.

Told him his hair turned grey, told him his eyes turned purple, told him he had a rash, pretended I had died, told him I had a poutine for him, hid in the closet, told him I peed when he tickled me.