(A prompt from my writing class: describe a moment you are at peace)
For twenty days in between appointments, I walked. I walked in concentric circles around the hospital – down to False Creek, up the Cambie hill, west to the fancy shops and east to the hipsters with their big beards.
For twenty days, I looked for a picture. In the hospital, all my photos were taken in black and white. But outside out on my stroll, I searched for colour.
I snapped a tabby cat sunning on a step, the city view peeking through the condos and a bicycle parked against a tree, its basket filled with flowers. Once a crow flew at me on 10th street, angered I had passed too close to its babies. I continued on. There was a coffee shop filled with books, a burgundy mosaic pattern on a store floor and the blossoms slowly filling the tree canopies with early spring.
On my last day of those long 20 days of treatment, I spotted some graffiti on an alley wall. It was a perfect pink circle with stencilled words that simply said – you are here. And that is enough. xo.