Bus ticket through rural Ontario to urban Montreal

The second I sit down on the bus, my eyes close. Sleep has been hiding all week, now I've found it on the road. Somewhere between point a and b is a truck stop where I buy cheetos, mountain dew, and sugary lime-green candy strips. The essentials. A stomach-ache sleep brings me to my destination, 3:45 a.m.

Disoriented, I look for anything I recognize. A strip club I know! Success. The writing on the storefronts turns from French to Mandarin. Trouble. A cross-dressing bar tender stands in front of a closed sportsbar. I am lost, too. Then I spot a dead-lit red and white sign, the logo for Hennes & Mauritz. H&M, the great landmark of the Swedishized world of fast-fashion. I know exactly where I am.

I turn right, and find the long street that leads to my friend's apartment. The walk is about an hour. No bother, it's 5:00 a.m., I have time to kill. The walk is crisp; I forget the sun doesn't rise when its raining. Finally, I reach the park, nearly 6:00 a.m. As I sit down and pull a book out of the front pocket of my bag, the lights in the park ceremonisouly turn off: a sign it's finally day.

Right when the bicycles, coffee cups and strollers start to come out, I get a saving text. Alex can't sleep, is up, and buzzes me into his building. As the sun warms the morning grey sky, we both fall asleep.

My morning saviour

I bring rain to the city, every time

Sinking hope on a rainy day

Sit and be bright

On a loaner bicycle I make my way to Metropolis, and buy ticket for tonight's show

*I know I said brb just a few hours ago, but I can't quite un-wire, yet