We moved in August, around two weeks before the new school year. I’d never have to see anyone I knew from my old school again since our new house was in a different district. It was a fresh start for us, far from the troubled waters and the depraved maniacs lurking in the woods. I was relieved we were leaving because every time I ran into Mrs. Fiset at the supermarket, she gave me a hug. Since Dave and I were in the same class and lived in the same neighbourhood, she’d picked up the notion we’d been friends. She was even more haggard than before, if such a thing were possible. She had always looked as though she’d been up all night, with her hair sticking out all over the place and eyes crusty with makeup. Now she wasn’t even bothering to put on foundation; her skin was straight-up grey instead of her usual greyish-orange hue.

Some people claim to be visited by an angel. Others hear God speak to them. Still others watch documentaries on chimpanzees. In every case, it takes a stroke of luck to find your vocation. I might have spent my whole life searching. Hare Krishna? Hairdressing? Water polo? But the universe blessed me with a taste of the perfect crime. The next steps would be more difficult, but over time I learned that there is such a thing as impunity. I just had to keep my light hidden under a bushel.

3

Spray-Foam Insulation

Everyone loses their mind in a heat wave. Especially in the city. Melt, polar ice caps! Lay waste to our lowland cities! Blow, hurricanes! Get it over with! We deserve it.

It’s one of those days when I break into a sweat just sitting on a chair in my kitchen. I’m fasting because I’m not willing to open the fridge. If I do, the ambient heat will thwart all its efforts to stay cold. The fridge is groaning and blowing hot air out the back to join the mass of hot air already filling the room. It’s been running at full tilt for three days now. On the rare occasion it does stop, it trundles to halt like a quivering beast and rattles my dishes. Then, after a moment of silence, it fires right up again.

It’s my first summer in the apartment. I swear it’ll also be my last. I’m happy that I chose to live alone, now that I understand why the rent was so cheap. The place is a sauna. Everything’s heavy and sticky. I’m on the fifth floor of a glorified henhouse. I can’t scrub away the tobacco smell the previous tenants kindly left behind. We should just go ahead and shoot all smokers. They make everything stink and cost our health-care system a fortune.