Passing Through

Last night, I was journalling with my friends Petra and Alia, curled up around the dining room table in their apartment. Petra, who was the first friend I made on my first day of journalism school at 18. And Alia, who has long been my favourite person to talk with for hours at a party, which we now do in coffeeshops and on sidewalks and over dinner.

In the kitchen, between rounds of writing and reading select entries aloud, we gathered supplies for tea and dessert. Petra cut up a pomegranate, pulling it apart with her bare hands. Alia made chocolate mousse, and we topped its whipped peaks with the slightly tart seeds.

As we sipped our tea and wrote side by side in silence, I felt something familiar — a pang of fear, knowing that the perfect present moment can’t last forever. The circle game is going faster now, seasons spinning round and round. Petra said something about being content, and as I licked the last whisper of chocolate off a silver spoon, my fear melted away in the candlelight.

On the walk home, I slipped my earbuds in and lit a cigarette, breathing the smoke out slowly between my teeth. I felt clean and tired, my skin shivering like I had just gotten out of a long hot bath. I took a left turn and ended up in a neighbourhood that I used to live in years ago. I passed by a red-lit arcade bar I didn’t recognize, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a karaoke room, where a cluster of people clutched microphones, gearing up to sing. A few blocks down the street, I slowed to look through the grimy glass of an old watering hole, where I saw the ghost of my past self sitting in a corner booth. I used to devour cold, greasy fries there after my shifts at a nearby restaurant, chatting with whoever else happened to clock out before last call, sipping fizzy tequila sodas until it was time to go home. Past the bar, I crossed the street and queued a song that I love. It had played softly in the background earlier that evening:

Passing through, passing through,

Sometimes happy, sometimes blue. Glad that I ran into you.