"Good morning, Mrs. Ashbury. Off to the park to feed the birds?" The elevator doors swished shut and the faux, wood-grained cab descended with a slight jerk.

"Somebody has to do the Lord's work," the elderly woman replied with an elevated nose. Her white hair burst like free radicals from beneath an ancient tennis tournament visor and she gripped her cart possessively with gnarled fingers encased in blue golf gloves.

"Yes, he is a bit of a slacker, isn't he?" The cab stopped and the doors opened. He waved the glowering woman off with a modest bow and followed her across the lobby to the main exit, holding the door again and smiling quite without concern over her opinion that his remark was blasphemous. "Have another lovely day, Mrs. Ashbury."

      Christopher Wallace strode up the sidewalk heading for the corner and across the intersection to the mall. An early sun was already heating the cement sidewalk and he could feel his shirt begin to cling. First he planned on collecting a little bit of cash from his bank machine and then he was off to the large retail store to pick up some socks on the End of Summer Blast—Sale. The shortcut through the parking lot called for him to wade through Mrs. Ashbury's' adopted noisy gaggle of fearless gulls and pigeons, stepping with care the entire way; he would have gladly trampled the dirty lot. There was no line-up at the bank, which meant he might be able to get in and out of the mall without too much hassle. Across the lot again and into the mall entrance, immediately shivering in the unnecessarily frigid air. The small stores flanking the large retailer were just opening. The owners, not endearing themselves to their anticipated customers, dragged sandwich board notices out into the middle of the aisles, cutting by half the traffic route. Inside the main store, a bleary-eyed greeter wearing an arranged, dry smile and cradling an armful of sale sheets yawned and blinked as the first wave pushed through the turnstiles.

      The number of early shoppers increased noticeably as he made his way to the men's section, the result of another entrance on the opposite side of the store where the parking was in the shade in the morning. Christopher watched a young mother pursue her charge around the displays, issuing the promise of untold agonies when she caught up. An unlikely event. The socks he wanted hung at eye level with a large red and white tag stating that the purchase of one pair gave him another at half price. He lifted several pairs from the hook and marched happily back to the checkout. On the way, a bin of DVDs that were marked down to three for ten dollars caught his attention and he raked through the dozens of boxes, hoping for a gem. A few other shoppers drifted over and began shuffling through the piles and he bristled inside as they pushed the ones he had already discarded back over to his corner. Christopher spread his feet and staked out his side of the bin, not moving for any of the newcomers and was finally rewarded with three movies he had not yet seen. With a triumphant jut of chin, he took his purchases to the cash.

      Back out in the concourse, he browsed a few of the small shops, making certain he wasn't missing anything of value and deciding he wasn't, finally headed outside. The sun was higher and the threat of a very moist day presented itself. Already the pavement was hot under foot and people moved single file along the face of the buildings in the decreasing strip of shadow. The coffee shop on the corner was taking advantage of the mall sale and was offering a small coffee and choice of doughnut for one dollar. He could see a shift in the pedestrian traffic as the sign worked its magic and he picked up the pace, eager to get out of the heat and enjoy a rare, inexpensive treat.

      Christopher settled himself at a small corner table, setting his shopping bag at his feet and shifting his chair to permit a woman wearing a sari and pushing a stroller to slide past. The wheel barked his shin and he grunted in annoyance receiving a helpless smile in exchange. Not a good trade. A moment later things improved immensely when a delightfully good-looking young woman asked to share the table, and as he pulled the chair back for her, another, much older, approached from the other side. He tried to reach for another chair and managed to knock the young woman's bag out of her hand. She cried out and Christopher responded with a barrage of apologies and attempts at consolation. She gathered her bag and tucked it under her feet as she sat. The older woman sat as well, thanking him as he returned to his own chair, oving his bag closer to the young woman, out of his way.

"I'm really sorry about that."

She waved a finger. "It's fine, don't worry about it. I was just startled."

He watched as she reached down and touched the bag and wondered if that was true.

"They should do this more often," he said, trying a new approach.

The older woman immediately responded with a forceful agreement, detailing the spiraling costs of food, oil and other necessities. Nodding politely, Christopher tried a different tack, venturing a direct question at the other woman while the budget queen paused to chew her doughnut.

"Find any good bargains?"

"Oh, I wasn't really shopping, I- I already had one of these bags." She looked at him nervously and dabbed at her lips with a napkin.

"Socks."

"Pardon?"

"I came for socks. Can't have too many." He felt his ears heat and he wondered what in god's name he was saying.

      His attention was welded to her lips and the curve of her chin and when she made a small sound of understanding, it was all he could do to wrench his eyes to hers, finding himself locked to another inescapable vision. He closed his mouth and blinked, drinking some of his coffee to cover his idiotic behaviour and sagged inside as she finished hers, picked up her plate, cup and shopping bag and rose to leave.

"Well, bye," he offered hopelessly. She returned an absent smile and edged through the crowd to the door.

"Lovely girl," the other woman said.

"Hmm?"

"I said, she was a lovely girl. Don't tell me a fine looking young man like you didn't notice." The woman crinkled her eyes and coyly sipped from the coffee container.

Christopher nodded and gathered up his own things. "Oh I noticed. What I noticed most was that she didn't," he said ruefully and left with a small wave.

*****

Anracky Towers, the condominium complex where Christopher lived, referred by some of the more disgruntled occupants as, Anarchy Towers, stood sedately on the corner of a quiet, heavily treed side street and a busy, bustling, four lane raceway. Its grey brick, cut stone and glass balconies climbed skyward for twenty storeys, the prime suites facing the lake, the city and the raceway and the less expensive overlooking a clot of several other, less attractive, buildings, the parking lot and the dumpsters. Christopher occupied one of the latter.

      A bachelor by dint of his own efforts, he enjoyed, for the most part, the one-bedroom unit on the ninth floor, letting it adapt to his lifestyle of laziness and ambivalence toward housekeeping. When the occasional need to entertain arose, Christopher summoned his mother's image and channeled her expertise; it usually satisfied his guests. Car-less, he made good use of the adjacent subway system, accepting the screech of trains as fair trade for the convenience. He shouted hello to his empty unit as he came in, setting down his shopping bag and slamming the door. The ritual came about because of a break-in a few years earlier in which he blundered in on the surprised robber and received a lump on his head for his trouble.

      Pleased at having accomplished his purchases so early, he looked forward to considering his plans for the rest of the day and enjoying a lazy breakfast. He went to his bedroom and changed back into his slopping clothes, a pair of faded shorts and a baggy t-shirt then padded barefoot out to the kitchen and grabbed a frozen bagel from the freezer, nuking it in the microwave. The galley kitchen was isolated from the dining cum living room, and he had to carry everything around the corner and over to his favourite chair. Of course a tray would have made the move so much easier but Christopher disdained such femmy accessories and consequently needed both a mop and a broom instead.

      Finishing his bagel with a long swallow of grapefruit juice, he slipped the dirty dishes into to the cranky dishwasher he'd named Molly.

"You can do those later," he said to the machine jokingly.

He lifted the shopping bag up onto the table and reached inside for his wares, pausing in confusion and spreading the top to peer inside. "Holy shaboom!"

Christopher reached back into the bag and withdrew the package of bills held together by a large elastic sleeve. He dropped it on the table and stared dumfounded. "There must be thousands there", he blurted aloud.

      A trickle of sweat ran down his side and he wiped a nervous hand across his mouth as an inviting rash of options presented themselves. "It must have been the girl, she had a bag the same as mine."

The statement echoed through the apartment with a multitude of possibilities.

*****

Nora hurried through the concourse to the department store clutching her bag. Her car was parked on the other side of the building and she wanted to get to it and get away as fast as possible. The thin man carrying a similar bag was on a collision course with her as she jogged right through the cosmetic section. When she reached another through aisle she saw him trying to cut her off again. Nora looked about for a store employee without luck and as she tried another route past children's ware, he blocked her path, forcing her behind a rack of gaily coloured sweat pants.

"The hell's goin' on?" He asked angrily. "I bin givin' you the sign ever since you came into the store." She stared at him without the slightest idea of what he was talking about. "The bag, dummy. Gimme the goddamn bag." He looked about nervously.

Nora's eyes widened as she silently obeyed, collapsing inside as she saw her payday being snatched away, accepting the similar one he was carrying. She watched disconsolately as he darted away, tossing her a threatening scowl. Nora looked in the bag and saw the envelope of money she had been promised and suddenly realized with a sick feeling that she had just made a big mistake.

      Her little Toyota screeched off the lot and down the street amid a clamor of horns.