Chapter One

I stood on the corner of Queen and Coxwell, once again waiting for that ever so distinguishable sound that confirmed warmth was on it's way. The temperature was getting to the point where it was becoming a physical and mental effort to take my hand out of my pocket in order to count the appropriate two dollars seventy-five.

Three young white people stood in a huddle to my left. There was some sort of gyrating movement going on so I turned and stared, I'm not one for subtlety. There was two male and one female. They were, unless my eyes were deciding to lie to me, each listening to separate head-phones, each mouthing the words to separate (presumably rap) songs, and each moving in what can only be described as a rhythmically, rather unnatural, spasm. What made this spectacle even more uncomfortable was that they would every so often look up at each other, as if searching for some kind of conformation or acceptance.

As much as this fascinated me, I was just as disturbed. Luckily warmth arrived.