c.6

He is quite large and tries to hide it by wearing sloppy over-sized army colored clothes he gets from the Army Surplus store down on Victoria St. If he is lucky, nobody notices him in his day to day life. He is almost twice her age and he lives next door to her. He doesn't know if she knows he exists, or not. But he knows about her.

He is a noticer. He likes to think of himself as a thoughtful noticer, like a well-wisher. Not the creepy kind of noticer. But who knows what others would think if they noticed him noticing. 

He spends a lot of time collecting odd items to photograph and sell online. He likes to photograph items that are secretly recyclable. Things that people throw out, that they have no idea can be reused or melted down, made into something of value for another person.

First he plants online the photo of the original item he has found, usually in the trash or in a second hand store or garage sale. Then he finds a way to recycle it, to make it something else. Then he posts it in the same place online,  beside the original, and sells the two as a pair. 

Sometimes, the buyer requests to buy the actual item, but he always refuses to sell it. It would put a wrench in the entire process. Everything has a flow, beginning to end, he thinks. So, they final item needs to be discarded, no matter how valuable it becomes to someone new. The truth is, it was never originally what it looks like now.  The concept, the perception of value, of usability. Something that can never be measured, captured or made permanent. 

There are bugs in his apartment lately. He doesn't know why. He is impeccably clean. He eats only cabbage, cucumbers and tuna out of the can, and he always washes the can before he recycles it. Bugs are so creepy, he has to kill them immediately when he catches them scurrying by. But it scares him, so he has a spray can full of some kind of poison that he shoots. That keeps them at a distance. But lately, he hasn't been able to sleep. Maybe he needs an exterminator.