Unease bordering on panic during that hour late in the afternoon, right before the sun begins to set, when the light isn't quite what you'd call dim, but all the shadows have disappeared and the birds have stopped making any noise. This time makes me want to run inside, call my friends, hide under the covers or make someone hold me to escape the uneasiness creeping through my guts. This is the worst time of the day.

Unidentifiable queasiness when I pull into our cluttered garage and see my dad's enlarger sitting on top of a disused cupboard. I don't know what it is. It just looks so... old. It has a dial-type timer, instead of one which displays the numbers like a digital clock, and it has a swing-out red filter from before the time of multigrade papers. It doesn't even have a slot under the lens for carrying contrast filters. I don't know what makes me feel queasier; the redundancy of the enlarger, the hopes lingering around it - hopes of escape, art, expression, a life - of a man clenched between a chattering family and a demanding job; or the way I know so much about it, how I've probably spent more time in the darkroom than he ever has, and how he doesn't know and won't ever know.

The early flush of cold on a winter night, when it's so cold and dry the air is like breathing icewater, and the cold gets into my muscles and bones and skin and all I want to do is run, leap and frolic like a two year old or a baby sheep. It makes me want to run and run in great, goofy circles, chasing my imaginary tail, until someone will come run with me and we can chase each other.

A kind of weariness when you step into a party for the very first time, before you've even established where the booze is, who you know there and where you can smoke. It's a feeling as though the house, the people in it, even the ground beneath your feet are all temporary. No, it's more like you are temporary. It's a flush of mortality, a quick reminder that you're here for an indeterminate time and everything will keep going after you're gone, just as you keep going day after day as people everywhere slip away.