The Writer by Kim Dallmeier Page A

away, putting it safely back into my wallet.
    I was packing my books and
bag, when she arrived. Dishevelled, wiping snow off a newspaper,
Joy made her way to a corner table.
    I unpacked my bag, and
ordered another coffee. I looked at the time. It was close to 10am,
and I only had class in the afternoon. I could afford to help
serendipity. I coughed.
    She took no notice of me,
even after I dropped accidentally my book.
    I was in the middle of
doodling on a matchstick man, when Joy appeared at my
table.
    “Are you always this
clumsy or did your third cup of coffee helped?” she
asked.
    “Uh,” I stared. I was
always this eloquent put on the spot. “Hi,” I finally managed to
say.
    “Hey,” she said, sitting
down, smiling. “What are you up to? An artist I see…”
    I folded the napkin
away.
    “I didn’t know you came
here,” I said.
    “Why would
you?”
    My mind went blank. She
laughed. “You never called me…”
    “I figured you had slipped
me a Chinese take-away number, and I already know a good
one.”
    She smiled. “Nah, it’s my
real number. We should do something together some time.”
    “Yeah, I’m totally up for
that.” I felt like a cooing 14-year-old girl, and regretted
instantly using the word: totally.
    “I mean, sure…” I said,
trying to sound manlier this time.
    She laughed, looking away.
“You have any plans today?”
    “No. Why?” I asked. It was
always good to be open.
    “You want to see a movie
at the Palace for a dollar? They have a bunch of oldies playing
this afternoon,” she said. She opened the newspaper and pointed at
the showings: “Blade runner?”
    I was in love, all over
again.

Chapter 3
    Montreal, in winter, is
freezing and lasts forever. When the calendar hits January, you
pretty much get minus 30˚ weather every other day. With the wind
factor, you might as well be sunbathing somewhere in the
Arctic.
    Now, what if I told you
Joy and I walked five or six blocks in a blizzard to get to the
Palace and I never felt the cold. My face froze. The Tip of my nose
froze. My toes froze, and I felt absolutely nothing.
    Maybe it was Joy, maybe it
was the frostbites, one way, or the other I felt no pain. Not until
we arrived at the movie theatre, and I started thawing, that is.
Now, that hurt. Imagine colonies of ants biting you until they
decide to heat up like hot plates. No, make those mutant fire ants,
who adapted to our crazy Arctic weather trying to colonize
me.
    “What are you thinking
about?” Joy asked.
    Oh, I am only pondering
about mutant insects crusading over my body, you? “Nothing,” I
said.
    “You look totally freaked
out…”
    “Just happy to be here,” I
said.
    “That’s your happy face?”
Her wide-eyed look made me laugh.
    She bought our tickets. I
got us popcorn. We found seats.
    The movie was great, but
the company was better.
    I held my breath so many
times; I thought I would pass out. First, I leaned my arm slightly
against hers, and held my breath. When my fingers touched hers
accidently over a popcorn kernel, I held it again. I wanted to
freeze this moment with her, capture it, and pin it to my
wall.
    When the movie ended, it
was time to take the metro home: we were heading in different
directions.
    I decided to walk her to
her train. We went down the escalator in silence. The moment I saw
the lights of the metro appear in the tunnel, I started sweating,
almost panicking. Should I shake her hand or kiss her on the cheek?
I had no idea!
    The train stopped and the
doors opened. As she went in, I stood there, staring. She turned
around and smiled. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the train
with her. I had no idea where we were going, and I really did not
care. I would have followed her across the Galaxy to the Restaurant
at the End of the Universe, if she had asked me to.
    “Is that your happy face?”
she asked.
    I smiled. “Nah, I’m
totally miserable right now.”
    “Thought so,” she
laughed.
    We sat and watched the
stations go