Black bricks of the Montreal Metro tunnel whiz by as my train hurtles onwards to its next stop.
I’m headed to Little Italy.
Or was it Little Portugal?
I’m headed to Little Somewhere-In-Southern-Europe.
I’m meeting a friend who wasn’t even supposed to be here.
But as fate would have it, he’s in town on a layover.
So we’ll grab lunch and see the town.
The train begins to slow down,
Pulling into a stop called St.-something-or-the-other.
I step out onto the platform, U2 still blaring in my ears.