Today It Ends

I smoke a cigarette as I walk along the Quai Saint-André, cupping it in my hand.

I have always smoked this way.  Done everything this way, really.


I watch a grain barge chugging up the St. Lawrence churning brown froth as it passes. I flick the butt into the river and turn back toward the market.

Somewhere in this crowd of tourists she is meeting him now, telling him everything is set.

Telling him she will leave me today.

How I came to know this is unimportant. It is a fact, intractable, unchangeable.

What comes next is anyone’s guess.

Friday Fictioneers


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  1. pennygadd51

    I like the style you’ve chosen for this story, a cramped, clandestine style for a cramped, clandestine anti-hero. I have a feeling that his lover will not immediately come to harm; he will use his (excellent) sources of information to keep track of her, and he will lacerate himself poring over the minutiae of her life. It would make a cracking start to a psychological thriller!

  2. msjadeli

    He’s left the door open, which leaves the story on a note of unease. When someone gives oneself permission for “anything” watch out.

  3. Dale

    I don’t know why I have a Leonard Cohen feel about this… Maybe it’s the Montreal vibe ;-)
    I like to think he doesn’t know what he wants to do about it. Yet.

Don't just stand there.