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late
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Rants
- Hits: 2824
Once a week at least you'll see them, three buses in a row heading in the opposite direction. The first one is full, the next 2 are empty.
It's a bad sign.
And you wait. And you wait. You check your watch and make light conversation with the other people at the bus stop. Maybe you missed your bus, but the others, they're all regulars and if you missed the bus then they did too....
And you're still waiting.
Now you try to be understanding, there's probably extenuating circumstances at play. There could be an accident. It could be the snow, or the rain, or the fact that it's a sunny day. Maybe your watch isn't working? But other people are getting on their cell phones and calling in to work.
The bus is late.
So you wait and me, I'm bad at being late. I'm usually early. To be 5 minutes late takes an hour to recover from, 15 minutes late take a day.
You think of all the big cities you've lived in, London, Prague, the buses always ran on time. But here in Calgary bus schedules, they're only approximate, you shouldn't take them seriously, they're intended as a general guide only...
And you wonder why they need three buses running the route in the other direction when 2 of them are empty, couldn't they just turn one of them around?
All the while inside I'm screaming, I'm late...
Climbing Mt. Everest
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2046
I'm with a large group of people and we're climbing Mt. Everest.
We're going for the top, although we won't get there today, we're on a stone track winding through the jungle, stairs up, there are many villages along the way with the Stupas and the Temples, we've reached one of the last and everyone has found a place to bunk for the night.
Dion and I, we've decided to press on, you can see the top of the mountain from here, walking through the village we run into some trouble - shots are fired, a frightened local, someone throws hundred dollar bills at us to buy our silence.
You can see the top of the mountain, almost straight up from where we are, but it's still covered in jungle, it's a false summit, when we get to the top we'll see the real summit but we want to climb to the top of the rise and see the view, where we're going, and so we keep climbing although daylight is fading fast, it's not mountain climbing so much as walking up a stone staircase in the side of the mountain, we should really break off and look for a place to sleep in the woods and I wonder that the altitude has not begun to take it's toll...
For Sale - Haunted Antique Table
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 2771
This downsizing is addictive. By the time I'm done I'll be ready to live in a shoebox in no time...well, at the rate it takes me to write copy, maybe a year...but still.
But copy sells the table (or so they say)...
Haunted Table for Sale:
For pretty much the same price you could have a pressboard table made in China with a fancy Swedish sounding name (like “frendli” or “Bjork-borg”), or a small 27’ HD TV, you could buy a fine antique table (seats 4-6).
Freak
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1910
A troubled nap interrupted by the daily call from Telus.
I'm at her place, but it's not, there's an open door and movers are carrying large mattresses, she's staying in a hotel. She's changed, pierced her nose and lips and has large bangles interlocking, she's behaving strangely, seductive but odd; when she takes off her shirt there's a large purple birthmark between her breasts, over top of it grows a mat of hair...the doors open, movers coming and going in the hall ...
It's not her, not who I remember anyways, and I ask her about the piercings, the purple birthmark, it strikes me that she must be sick, have a terminal illness, cancer, but she ignores me, and I wonder why she's staying at this hotel - outside it's raining, grey, drizzling.
She wants to go downstairs to the buffet, they have a great creme pudding she tells me in a way that tells me she's been here before and I wonder with who, there are things she's not telling, we go to the buffet and there's a host of people talking, in one room there's a pile of desserts around a chocolate fountain, the other there are these tiny puddings, off-brown, star shapes and soggy crackers, people are lining up for them and they look repulsive, the light everywhere is dim and grey...
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