10

Imagine my horror today when I counted the remaining cash in my wallet and found only 10$. While some places accept my Visa card, many do not--and Visa certainly doesn't get me on the metro.

After making this shockingly unpleasant discovery, I decided it would be a good day to stay home. And read. And write. And do laundry. And play romantic music while rubbing my two 5$ bills together to see if they'd produce more money. (No luck.)

I have only 10 pages left of my book, yet I'm putting off reading the end. My pace is about a paragraph a day, bookmarked by excuses of having to re-read sections I've enjoyed. I accept it as an all-too-obvious metaphor of my not wanting my Montreal story to end.

Tonight, as I commenced the sad planning of my scheduled departure in 10 days, I discovered something wonderful in my suitcase: an envelope full of Canadian cash. I'd forgotten I'd separated it from the rest shortly after my arrival two months ago.

If only I could buy another book.