A guest post from my brother, Peter Coakes.
From a visit to Seattle.
Main street cafe. Empty. Quietly raining outside. Music. Passing traffic from the intersection. Waiting. Slow dripping off the portico. Everything just passing by.
Fan on. Fan off. Traffic passing to and fro. Their lights shine through the gap in the curtain. Straight lines of light track across the far wall. Swipe left. Fan on. The bath faucet is dripping. Re-adjust, check messages. Fan off. Thunder a little ways off through the rain. Jets turning over and taking off. Fan on. Time forgot to be. What are you doing. Fan off.
You have to be confident
Ok
Take charge
Right
Here, like this. That’s it.
Sky. Snow. Sky. Snow snow snow.
Grinding to a halt. Pause.
Goddamn
Shit
Ha ha ha
Taking off a glove to pick snow out of his ear. Faint voice from the ski lift above. Something about a tree.
Ha ha oh shit goddamn
One ski pole left. Everything else is gone. Looking around, up, there it is, point of impact about fifty meters up the slope.
Ok
Scramble through the snow drift towards the scattered pile of gear that was once securely fastened. Breathless. Neck kinda Hurts. Headache.
Ah. Fuck.