Toronto Unplugged

By Chris Akoji

A Fresh look at City life amongst Six people from the vantage point of spending the same day will all of them. Toronto unplugged is a collection of short stories set exclusively in Canada's biggest Metropolis.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483510354

Book preview

ISBN: 9781483510354

DEDICATION

To the Man upstairs. Thank You

To the man at the top of the stairs. I see you.

To the man at the foot of the stairs. Climb Higher.

To the man who fell down the stairs. Rejoin us quickly.

Acknowledgment

Encouragement and inspiration to hold steady and complete this work came from two friends. I remember their kind words like it was just mentioned a few seconds ago.

Adakole Iduma. I remember the hours spent listening to the eccentric 90's hip hop group X CLAN. He once told me my letters made masterpieces.

Farid Obineche's pat on the back was a bit more sublime; he thought I had a profound sense of the absurd.

Just days before the first volume of this book was completed, my computer malfunctioned and I lost three crucial folders. The sane head and calm disposition of Tosin Ogunsanya talked me out of flinging a monkey wrench at the equipment's monitor.

Some people talk to friends, others turn to shrinks and some have had conversations with Trees and piles of rocks. The trick is to find the right party.

PREFACE

I live in a city called the Good. Toronto The Good.

I have held that phrase in mind for the better part of a decade, trying to validate or refute the audacious claim. Listening to the news here and there, observing my fellow Torontonians, sometimes while taking the pulse of the city on any given issue, I have found occasion to both validate and refute the claim that Toronto is the good.

The argument is not getting old. It aged long before I got here. Who knows if the first responders, rising in defense to the city's claim to be the Good, still have teeth?

One thing I made sure to avoid, as I contemplated an approach to writing this story about the city, was to skip any history lessons. I have no clue what a six pack sold for circa 1947 (were six packs even sold back then?) If only three questions were asked between strangers meeting for the first time in Toronto, then you will definitely hear variations of this same question.

Quid tibi placet?

There was also the question of what literary approach to adapt in my quest to write a story about the city, I considered a couple. Then I ditched the whole lot when I found pop culture provided the best clues to writing about the city. I could pretend to be a well-seasoned travel blogger or a part time thrill seeking gypsy foodie like Anthony Bourdain.

Oh I would like that one, but I wonder if it’s even worth the pressure. What pressure? The pressure that comes with the knowledge, that my palate is the cantilever on which the city's finest chefs have to build their careers.

Does the world need another dreamer? The idea can be debated or ignored .The fact remains that if the city is greater than the sum of its parts, then Toronto the Good is so called for the sum of its parts. Toronto the good! It was, still is & will be home to a lot of us for a very long while yet.

Enjoy, if you will, a day in the life of six of my neighbors.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

A WEAK HEART STIRRED.

January 6th. 6:14 PM

He gazed into the reflection on the mirror, turning his head slightly to the left to admire the week old stubble on his cheeks. Taking one step back from the 58.75 inch framed mirror, the center piece of the Barros 63 nougat quartz bathroom vanity, he reached into the top cabinet to get a bottle from a collection. Holding his breath was natural for what was to follow. With closed eyes, he quickly reached behind each ear lobe to spray bursts of cologne from the Hugo Boss bottle. He slowly opened his eyes, with the final ritual complete he turned around and left the bathroom.

His Smartphone vibrated on the Cintura square coffee table in his living room as he walked toward it. Messages were waiting. The name on the caller ID screen was expected, a slow smile formed. He liked making his dates wait, after listening to a couple of the voicemail messages and scanning through a few text messages, he headed for the front door. After turning the key to lock the front door to apartment 2018, he walked quickly on the padded carpet toward the elevator foyer. Twenty floors down, in the lobby of the building, his date stood waiting.

As the elevator doors opened, he took a calculated step outside the door scanning the lobby for her face. The moment he saw her face they both locked eyes. He waved with his right hand and beckoned her to join him while his other hand firmly held the elevator door from closing.

She walked slowly across the lobby hallway towards the open elevator, her Mezzamezza boots leaving little wet stamps on the beige Bellagio marble floor behind her. Just before she joined