Events

* a shirtless man, moves across the street, a collection of skin pulled tight across bones.
* wheelchairs can be transformed. A variety of bike parts become a recumbant bicycle.
* Alex is pleased to find thirty discarded cassette tapes
* Man like a woman walks by talking to himself.
* Tiny Asian woman in a see thru black and white skirt gives me a handful of green grapes. I
thank her with the few Chinese words I know.
* There is a straw broom that looks brand new leaning againest the buss stop.
* A woman in long black boots and six stitches above her eye is pacing in circles. She reminds me
of a cat that is ready to kill something.

Bill Wong sees me sewing from the sidewalk and comes in, wanting to look around, he is really just curious. I think he is just another dirty pervert. He wants me to fix the torn bits on his bag, he has been looking for a woman who can sew. I am busy but, the afternoon is dreamy, and I know he is full of stories. He removes every item from his bag, carefully, a folded newspaper, bottled water, a pastry take out box from New Town Bakery, two Coffee Crisp chocolate bars, a handful of miscellaneous candies, a small mountain of personal effects. I am positive his hair is artificial, glued to his head. He came to Canada in nineteen fifty one, before I was born, he asserts, when Chinatown was so small it was only four men suntanning. Bill repeats my name over and over while I sew the torn corner of his bag. His head he says has been cracked open four or five times to fix what is wrong, my name is almost the same as his wife's. We negotiate a price for my labour, one apple bun, sixty cents, and the promise of homemade chow mien. His wife's name is Susie Wong.