cornstalk jawbone
It’s summertime and the sun’s going down and I’m walking west on Rene-Levesque. There are no cars on the street, no people in sight. It feels like I’ve been walking forever. I need to get somewhere, but I can’t remember where I'm going. So I’m just walking.
There’s a tall row of corn growing down the middle of the street. The cornstalks seem to stretch off into the infinite distance. They throw long purple shadows across the pavement.
The air is warm and still as I walk past empty skyscrapers.
A small child is standing amongst the corn and rattling something around in a plastic bucket. He tries to shield the bucket so I can’t see inside, but I walk over and take a look anyway.
He’s got a bunch of bicycle parts and animal jawbones in there.