90. Fevers “Sort it Out” Passion is Dead [Self-Released]
“We’ll get back to you.”
The concept of leaving, similar to the act itself, is a fleeting one. Not but two hours prior I couldn’t have imagined departing on this bus, away from her one final time, but there I was, doing just that. Waiting for the engine to rumble on so I could let go of this image in my head of her waiting there in the depot, a fragile stoic face but with both nervous fingers at her coat zipper and pivoting feet on the linoleum, I kept my head down. On the one hand I felt lucky that at the last second I had chosen the side of the aisle facing away from the building’s window so I didn’t have the opportunity to catch a glimpse of her figure through the glass, but then again I ended up with it cemented in my head nevertheless. I tried to put it away, but all my brain could do was oscillate from it and back to it, rapidly pacing through memories from earlier that day when I felt nothing but effortless ecstasy: the sounds of seagulls at the bay, the taste of Blue Moon ice cream, or the smell of musty clothes at the Goodwill downtown. It felt like forever in that singular moment, willing that driver to finish his cigarette, board the bus, and put his key in the ignition, but when it was over, it was over. She had said what she had said, admitted what she admitted, and while part of me that I didn’t like listening to had predicted it, I had to my dismay ended up using that bus ticket. I wanted it to sit in my wallet and deteriorate until the ink had faded, but instead it simply got handed off and I was returning to Montreal. And it was, as they say, like I had never left at all.
Source: SoundCloud / fevers