A Darker Light. Heidi Priesnitz

and mustard.

      With her mouth watering for ginger-glazed chicken, spicy bean burritos smothered in melted cheese, or dahl and eggplant curry over fragrant basmati rice, she fumbled with her coat and cursed her buttons for being difficult. Although Halifax had plenty of good restaurants, she didn't have the money or the confidence to face young healthy waiters or the bright-eyed customers they served. Instead, she decided to walk to the grocery store, buy some ingredients and cook for herself. Bracing for an onslaught of people, she pulled on her shades and stepped outside.

      The sidewalk, of course, was empty. Crossing the tree-lined street, she had to remind herself that she was only minutes from the university in one direction, and from the harbour and downtown in the other. She was accustomed to streets so crowded that she had to use her elbows to protect her breasts and camera, and squares so full that people breathed in the air she'd just breathed out. Feeling as though her defect was visible to anyone who looked at her, she was grateful for the luxury of living in a small city on the outer edge of a sparsely populated country.

      Walking past the Commons, with its wide-open ball fields and concrete skateboard park, her body yearned for spices—the dark, sensual spices of India. She could smell the onions frying, the garlic sizzling in ghee, the almost black cloves mixing with the cardamom and mustard seeds. She was drunk on the thought of it, her head swirling with the aroma.

      Inside the Indian grocery store on Robie Street, the warm, humid air wrapped itself around her. She ignored the bags of chips, the silver-coated chocolate bars, and the flashy red and white advertisements on the sides of the refrigerators. Heading to the back of the store where the real food was nearly hidden,she filled her arms with oil-stained bottles, bags of ground spices, and the grains and legumes that would bulk up her meal.

      At the cash, she bought a samosa to eat while walking. As she stepped out into the natural air of the city, she pulled her coat closer. Knowing it was warm in Spain and France, she sighed and bit into her snack.

      With her head down, and her mind drifting through the barrage of fried finger food she'd eaten over the years while on assignment, she was oblivious to the fast-moving vehicle coming at her.

      "Watch out!"

      "Aaron?" she said. She hadn't seen him since college.

      "Hey!" He stopped, flipped up his skateboard, and smiled at her. "What's going on?"

      "Nothing," she said, swallowing the last bits of spiced potato and pea.

      "Same here. I'm just out for some air." His jacket was open, his neck crowded with a stream of beaded necklaces intertwined with a cluster of metal pendants. "I didn't mean to scream, man, but I didn't know if you'd see me!"

      "Probably not. I'm having issues with my eyes."

      "Oh yeah?"

      "Yeah." She tried to laugh. "Maybe I'm just getting old."

      "Hey, you know, you should see someone," Aaron said. "I know a woman who has a clinic down on Hollis with the most amazing atmosphere!"