WESTERN RUNNERS AND THE VIRUS

I have just returned from a sojourn in British Columbia. People in Kitsilano (peut-être "Quitsilano" en français?) like to run. Air displacement along the waterfront surely contributes to inclement weather. Stand in one place for a minute or two, close your eyes, and listen: swoosh, hiss, whiz!

Shoes striking pavement add to the sonority. Some land lightly and seem to float on air, while others reverberate like bisons on the prairie. "Jocks and jockettes" swarm like gargantuan bees in search of rare nectar. The level of human energy generated in this part of the country should be harnessed to light up the city.

I caught a nasty virus out west that I unfortunately brought back with me to Quebec. Microscopic fiends managed to block my ears, not a good thing when one has to catch a plane. The positive side? (I always try and find one...) when I'm neither hacking, sniffing, coughing or snorting, I experience wild, colourful dreams. A recent one was particularly disturbing and continues to haunt me.

A slender, turquoise snake with elegant black and red stripes, and tiny, furry, brown-grey bats gnaw on my thumb. I try to shake them loose but they refuse to let go. Their incessant chewing is becoming increasingly painful. Suddenly, a bucket of water appears magically out of nowhere. I insert my arm and swish it around in an effort to loosen their grip. Despite my profound feelings of skepticism, the process works! They drift away and I quickly remove my hand from the bucket. I check out my thumb and it grows into a small pink balloon with a fingernail before my eyes.


Even microbes can feed creativity.

Comments