I walk these streets with a shit-eating grin. Vancouver’s clouds of pot, unabashed opulence, marginally insane people arguing with inanimate objects. I adore everything about you. I walk these streets with nowhere to be, breathing deep.

They say do you feel weird, without the boys? and the girl exhumed from the bottle smiles serenely and winks. Here I am simply myself, up to my nose in memories more potent, more intoxicating than woodsmoke. Today I bought perfume. Perfume called ‘Stiletto Musk’ that smells much less slutty than it sounds. Today I have blood-red toenails that look much more slutty than they sound.

-Kate, www.sweetsalty.com