isang araw

I am awake before my alarm rings at four:twenty. At five:thirty I walk down Cambie. Sleepy construction workers with cigarettes between their lips sit in their trucks waiting for their shift to begin. At five:fifty my body tenses as I get off the bus on Pender and Hasting. The first crack in the sky is still buried under the horizon. And the dark forces me to carry my keys between my fingers. My strides are quick and long. Twenty steps before….nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen…..four, three, two, and safety.

Morning coffee is unnecessary when you go through the oldest neighborhood in Vancouver. Lights flicker from people crouched on the ground as they inhale smoke rising from their hands; cocoons line the side walk, people in different stages of muscular contractions scream inaudible sound. Sadness fills me as my bus passes through the downtown east side. Drug rehabilitation, social issues….we are born with unequal circumstances, how do we level the playing field? These thoughts slip away as I enter the industrial section. My own reality pulls me and traps me between teaching chance and probability, behavioral management, my nephew who has not returned my email, my students that are struggling in life, unpainted bedroom, choosing a country to live, dropping my suits to the cleaner.

Part 1