JILL
Nighttime walking out of Bloor GO station, trying not to extend myself. I’m seeable: cleaned up but not exactly polished, this presentable woman. Decide to take the rail path that follows the tracks south to Dundas West. Preferring the company of joggers and cyclists, the wafting scent of cocoa from the Nestlé factory over Roncesvalles and its tight sidewalks, babusias with small dogs swinging shopping bags. Working on my Sixteen Tips to Appear Carefree Without Feeling Like a Le Chateau Ad look, the exhausting dance of feeling people staring at me, me returning their glances, them averting their gaze. Choices, choices. So, yeah, I’ll take walking alone in the lamplit dark by the train tracks. Each to her own, though it sounds like a debt I pay to the quarrelsome thing in my gut; wher
