Ours is a society of broken umbrellas

Everyone else is on a trip out to Montréal, but not us working guys. There was enough time for me to get a ride up to Castle Frank station, from which I walked most of the way to work. It was raining (still is).


Soon past Castle Frank there’s a part in the trees bordering the sidewalk where you can see that the ground has fallen away into a mini valley of lush greens, the austere subway tunnel cuts across ones vision, while mists of fog congregate to obscure all that remains. It was pretty cool. I didn’t mind the rain at that moment.


I’m not really in the typing mood- in as much as you can call what I do typing… but it’s good to just do some writing for the purpose of doing something. In fact, in doing so I got to use the word austere and then go “wait, do I REALLY know what it means?” and then see that I did, while gaining some additional info on various connotations and whatnot. I do that a lot.


My title comes from the fact that I espied two women walking in front of me and took note of how busted up their umbrellas were… and the realization that it’s lame for me to be blown away by the fact that my current found umbrella responds well to the little activator switch on the handle. A working umbrella? In this day and age? Mr. Isaac, how you do go on.


Speaking of found things, I never buy my own pen, I always rely on found pens- my current foundling is a grey number from Scotiabank with a red top and corresponding red rubber finger guard thing. And some Chinese writing. It was pretty nice, but I tossed it in the air, failed to catch it, and somehow it ended up chipping one side of its end. How could this happen- I toss and drop pens all the time, they’re fine, it’s fun for them! It still works fine, but it’s all brokeny. I may have to keep on the lookout for a neat replacement. Unless that’s what this pen WANTS me to do!


My shoelaces are very near to snapping, speaking of things being all brokeny. It’s weird, my laces are brown but where it’s frayed is purple, blue or red. It’s as though I’m getting a glimpse into the fictional circulatory system of my shoes. My shoes veins, just over its tongue, surrounding its sole. (


I see I have once again not talked about Scott Pilgrim. I was going to, but then got distracted by rain and writing implements. Tomorrow for sure.


Suuure.

P.S.- several hours later, returning home and the sky is all rained out, there's a crystal clear man in the moon.

P.P.S.- got home just in time to see the very ending to "You've Got Mail". Love that movie, but especially the ending... that's actually the only part I generally sit through when it randomly pops up on tv.