i was picked up at the airport after changing in the bathroom. we went to a diner on the granville strip that morning and i remarked on the plastic dividers between the booths. we drove down west broadway. i wore my hoodie in the 70° pacific breeze. a record store employee jokingly berated my friend for not knowing the postal service. i bought a copy.
it was good to be out there. we didn’t even do anything that exciting. i spent time with my friend and then i took a flight back home.
sometimes you just need to see your friends.
i flew over the olympic stadium on the way back, and i could see four bridges connecting montréal to the other side of the river. there was a thud and i found the beauty in the contrast between mount royal and the city scape. i could see the oratory on westmount and i could even make out the orange julep from where i was. we flew past blue bonnets and soon i could read the signs on the buildings. i was safe on the ground once more.
i took the 747 bus to leonard cohen and teared up on my way down to the platform where i met my ex on our way to the botanical gardens last time around. i took the orange line west and tear up at three stations in a row before i hopped off at snowdon to catch the 51.
it was thursday evening, and i was about to have my apartment all to myself.