Saddest

Sunday, day ninety-five in Montreal. I woke up and kicked myself for my fib. Dawn was not mine to see. Breakfast, shower, straight to the computer.

I wrote nothing not destined for the Recycle Bin. I left my un et demi hours earlier than planned and went to Old Montreal. It was Independence Day for America, a slow morning for the city of Montreal, but I was in the habit of strolling on off-hours and so was surprised by the foot traffic.