“This feels like Vancouver.” I said to the woman at the front desk as I walked into the hotel lobby with my morning cup of coffee.
“It’s a relief.” She said
I’ve woken up to the sound of cars driving in the rain for the past few days. The rubber on wet asphalt sounds like waves breaking on the street. They come in sets with rhythmic patterns that splash the concrete beach outside my window. Our late six week summer came to an end quickly and without transition. One morning last week I got up and realized immediately it was gone.
What’s interesting is I’m not sure I miss it. The cold grey drizzle feels comfortable and I understand her relief. This is the city I know—not the hot sunny city without a cloud in the sky—I don’t recognize that city. I’ve brought my sweaters and hoodies out of their brief hiatus and I feel warm and safe in all my layers. For this moment I feel like I belong here.
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