Sufi Rumi

            Tuesday marked seven days since the tumble I took on O’Connor and the scab to the right of my right knee was a shrinking itchy brown island surrounded by a widening pink beach.

            I had a look at the English courses in the U of T calendar and I think 20^th Century American Literature would be an interesting course to take, so I’ll probably try to enrol in that on Monday, July 17^th. I hadn’t decided yet on what Philosophy half course I want to take.

            Later I took a bike ride on a hot afternoon and it was nice to not have to deal with brake pads rubbing against the rim and dragging me back. I rode back up to Parkview Hills and took Bermondsey through the thick fragrance of chocolate from the Peek Freans factory to Bartley and turned left on Hobson, near the end of which is the intersection of two boring new streets with interesting old names: Rumi Crescent and Sufi Crescent. Rumi of course was a Persian poet and the Sufis are a mystical branch of Islam that may actually predate Muhammad. I went back on Bartley and explored the short streets that run off it to the south. Once I was back on O’Connor I headed for home.

            I stopped at Freshco on the way to renew my fruit supply. I bought grapes and bananas and I did a price match on their cherries so I could get them for the No Frills price, which was almost half as much.