Meeting at the Toronto Star with the Creative Director of Eye Weekly and The Grid, two women were the same person. I was trying to get a job and desperately wanted to see inside.
I got a warning on my phone that a tornado was on the way so with haste I excused myself and stepped out onto the street.
I could see them coming, pockets of clouds laced with sun. These were aggressive and spawned funnels. Chaos paired with bliss. The city was Toronto, but with mountains, new high rises, and a coastline far greater than the lake.
Distracted from finding my bike, I watched a plane make an emergency landing on the Gardiner Expressway, squashing cars and squealing to a halt. It had been hit by one of the dozens of tiny but powerful storms which were racing through the city. A mountain side in the downtown core was being ripped apart by one tornado, spewing rocks into the streets below.
My phone sent another warning to me, this time all in red,
tornado imminent. I felt fear and decided to find cover. I couldn't find my bike, although I was carrying my bike chain, and dashed into a black circus tent that was near where I stood. Inside I noticed the tent was held up by enormous aluminum rods and told myself not to touch them. Lighting would surely strike.
Through the tent I found a narrow alley in Mexico, covered in excrement and vomit. Still carrying my bike chain, I went door to door in the alley, hoping one would open and lead me to a cellar. I had to get underground, the tornado was coming. I wiped away the vomit on one door nob, no luck. I kept repeating this, and a group of men started to follow me.
Soon I gave up, and peaked my head back out onto the street. It seemed the storm was subsiding. The city was quiet and I stepped back out towards the Star building.
As I wandered through backyards and underpasses, another burst from the sky dropped thick red foam all over the building beside me. It slowly melted away and I picked up my pace. If I could find my bike, I would race home to safety. Please God!
I could see the Star building in the distance, I was close. Another small cloud dropped foam to my left. This time bright green. It ate away at everything, some splashing onto my skin, burning. I looked to my right and saw a new Scotia Plaza, made of three emerald towers glowing in the sun.
I cut to a new condo development, again three round towers of blue and black. At the other side would be my bike, I was sure of it. I saw a WalMart at the base, a man was taking photographs of a family. I thought to myself
"I could do that job" and I woke up from this horrific nightmare.
Astronomers have witnessed a star falling into a blackhole, an incredibly rare celestial event taking place once every one hundred thousand years (so they say). First detected late March, the death of this star that got to close made such a powerful phenomenon visible to the people of Earth.
My roomate Michelle works for a place called Buddy Belts (That's Buddy in the bucket of belts above, he's so old), they had a booth at Woofstock. I usually stumble across this annual festival but this year made a point to see my friend and capture some of these cuties. Perma-smile the entire time, even if some of the people were a bit extreme.
*Sweet Simon Black part of the Tongue & Groove Collective
