late-night spadina station. i hurry from the subway to the streetcar. near the column a homeless guy urinates with (ahem) abandon. everyone picks up their pace, regretting the reason.
fast-forward 12 or so hours later. it’s mid-day and the same spot. this time i’m retracing my steps to the subway. a fragile fluttering catches the corner of my eye. almost warily, i turn towards the column. a pretty black and yellow butterfly dances about, seemingly confused by the walls and roof. suddenly there’s collective acuity. the crowd shares a just perceptible pause to admire the pretty, little prisoner.