Hypertension

The town is draped in rain. It has been for days. Just now, as I bent over, trying to touch my toes, I watched a raindrop running down the window. It looked like mercury rising in a sphygmomanometer as the cuff is inflated. Overinflated in this case. As one would expect, my thoughts turned to salt. The latest studies. Sodium warnings. The Globe is full of it these days. Still upside-down, another drop catches my eye. I think of my stethoscope. Wonder where I put it. It's been years. I'd like to place it over the artery of a day and release the pressure. I want to hear the Korotkoff sounds. The auscultatory gap. I want an accurate reading.

Linen drapes in this old hotel room

I moved in on Thursday and began to sink deeper into the city immediately. Couldn't help it, except by walking myself silly. Those are the pantlegs I wore last night along Howe to catch Vertigo at the Pacific Cinemateque. This is the pile of books I left behind, cluster of empty Stellas minus the one I smuggled into the reading, too cheap to pay eight bucks a pop. One more cache of coins, enough to get me to the airport three hours from now, adds up to $2.50. I've been working on puzzles, I guess, because I can see the empty squares next to the garbage can by the bathroom. Sticking out the bottom of the armoire: a tuft of shirt I wore yesterday morning and afternoon taking K. down to Granville Island, chatting up Grover Covington, the CFL Hall-of Famer, whose bus #19 took us there. This city has taken me, all right.

A squirrel in the attic is nothing new

So, on the weerkend in the cabin, as the squirrel did laps above us, we just carried on eating Jiffy Pop. Our greasy fingers had no idea how cold they'd be by 2 a.m. How bad they'd ache. Had no idea they'd be quivering beneath seven blankets, dying to dial the park's emergency number. No idea they'd still be clutching the covers at sunrise. As the squirrel does a couple early morning warm-up laps, a couple sun salutations. How they'd clap at 8 a.m when the maintenance man hits the pipes and the natural gas goes up in flames. How they'd whip the curtains open after. Find the squirrel staring in.