ian never made it to work yesterday. his mom managed to stop in for a few moments, sobbing hysterically and chewing on her bony fingers and looking quite like the women who frantically scan lists posted on doors in old war movies. i couldn't bear to look at her, so i slid out back into the alley and sat on a milk crate and smoked my last cigarette. the wind picked up for a moment, bringing to my feet a black and white photograph of two boys looking silly. i studied it for a few seconds. from what i gathered, i was looking at a photograph of two mildly-intoxicated young men who had finally succumbed to the exasperating people who had been trying all night to drag them onto the dance floor at a friend's wedding reception. don't you just hate people who try to make other people dance? i would never do something like that. ken chu wouldn't, either. don't worry. anyway. the photograph was just fantastic, and i started to reach for it when i got to thinking. i thought about how i would feel if some strange girl happened upon a photograph of me looking like an idiot...dancing...and found it to be so terrifically funny that she just had to pick it up and adhere it to the cover of her sketchbook with paper cement. i mean, i would probably never know. but still....just thinking about it...i turned over the photograph with my toe and headed back inside. there was a phone call later, and apparently ian was safe and sound at his grandmother's house. he'd bumped up his car a bit, but that was the extent of it. so...ian is alive and well. but his death's been bothering me since yesterday morning. it was a strange day, anyway. craig, who normally hops about like a fourth-grader at a slumber party, sulkily retreated to a corner table with a latte, a pile of saltine crackers, some honey packets and a big bowl of tzaziki sauce. he sat there for a while, sighing, looking bored and half-heartedly nibbling at his peculiar lunch. i tried to ignore him...when craig starts up with the blasé thing, it's best to keep busy. i must have been giving him a strange look, because he got up quite suddenly and grabbed my arm and said 'smokey.' and we went outside. my next last cigarette. we were standing around talking, and he mentioned how he missed his long hair. i said i couldn't picture him with long hair at all, so he ran out to his car for his portfolio and sure enough...he looked like ricky martin when he was on that soap in the early 90s, and a little bit like fabio only not in a scary way. i was just staring in disbelief and craig was looking a little wistful, and said something else about missing his hair. and then i remembered something i had overheard...about chemotherapy. at the time i'd heard it, i wasn't sure who....well, i know now. i knew. and he knew that i knew, and i think he knew i didn't know what to say, and i knew he didn't expect me to say a thing. knew know knew know. yeah. i think today's his day off. speaking of which, i should have started getting ready for work ten minutes ago. it's not coyness, it's discretion. love kirsten Care2 make the world greener! http://www.care2.com - Get your Free e-mail account that helps save Wildlife! +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+