It stretched out before me, a city of colour. The streets were lined with open cafes and brightly coloured parasols beneath which sat so many beautiful people. The sun shone mercilessly in the bluest of blue skies and my hair flew in the wind. It seemed perfect, this new place of untold stories, this new corner to sit and weave my memories.

Ah memories, those entities as delicate as a spider's web...as stifling. The memory of him hung on me yet. It would be many months - nearly a full year - before I could truly leave him behind me and let him become a part of my past. But now, as I walked, lost in wonder among strange streets and people singing a myriad of languages, I felt his eyes and saw his face and wished only to be near him, only to hear him breathe.

I had moved into an apartment in Ville St. Laurent. There lived my sister and her sweet, kind husband. It was a charming, homely place with two intuitively sensitve siamese cats. Such beauties were they! A balm for many a longing moment.