This was written in 2007 when a prospect appeared for a collaborative art project on climate change. Nothing, however, happened, except for more weather.
There was a blinding flash. All I could see were streaks of coloured light and the Transsiberian click-clacking into the horizon. “W-a-a-a-i-t,” I shouted. “There’s something I have to tell y-o-u-u-u-u.”
As I stared into the fractal sunset, gigantic flakes of velvety snow began to fall. In the uncanny silence, a single thought punched like a can opener into my resisting mind. Al Gore — Al Gore is back!*
I tried fruitlessly to start her motorcycle. While I was pumping like a demon, a semitrailer pulled up beside me.
The driver’s eyes gleamed in his dark face under a black sombrero. “Where you wanna go?” he asked. I pointed wordlessly down the lone highway.
“Put the bike in the back and get in.”
I hoisted the bike into the insulated trailer full of strawberries and climbed into the cab beside the driver. Rachmaninov’s third piano concerto pounded from the speakers as the truck raced into the driving snow and gathering dusk.
I tried to gather my random thoughts and shape them into a recognizable form. Al Gore — on a television screen.*
Jazz notes began to fill the glasslike clarity of the night.
* This line is changed from the original. Al Gore was interviewed on CBC’s National news on July 09, 2015.