For Muffin

Another early morning Ecstacy-fueled walk in downtown Toronto for yours truly. The streets, the buildings, the people, everything is so vibrant and fresh and alive. We walk side by side in our own little worlds but I can feel the inescapable bond between us. Not a word is spoken but I can feel his pain, his love, his anger and frustration. At the club I shake hands with the bouncer, introduce Miles and we by-pass the line and walk right in and down the stairs into the abyss. Miles is right. The place is bad news, nothing comforting about it. But at this hour what are you gonna do? We pass by a platter of old fruit sitting on the bar and I stop, pick through it and pop a strawberry into my mouth. Miles looks over at me like I’m crazy. I let out a loud drawn-out delicious and catch him smiling before he disappears into the recycled fog. I look for him in the crowd of sweaty bare-chested gym-rats as pounding electro cuts aggressive all around me. The sticky concrete floor won’t let me go any further, so I give in to the music and start moving for what seems like days before Miles grabs my arm and drags me back to reality.