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About Quebec City

So, I lean over, real gruff, say, “How much, lady?” She smirks, throws out a number—50 bucks! 50 freakin bucks! I’m pissed—highway robbery for 15 minutes of awkward! “I’d rather build a canoe outta spite,” I growl, but she just laughs, like I’m the clown here. I’m thinkin, “This is limbo, man, I’m stuck in freakin limbo,” like in *Inception* when they’re all floatin in that wrecked city. Surprised me, though—she didn’t flinch, tough as nails, gotta respect that. Made me almost happy, seein a gal hold her own in this dump.

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Now, Rocky-Mountain-House got parks. There’s Lonesome Pine Park, real quiet, real peaceful. I sit on a bench, thinkin’ deep thoughts, sometimes even sobbin’ over a lil’ lost love. The river, Bubbling Brook, cuts through town. It splashes like wild music. I been there on many a night, dreamin’ as if I was dancin’ in the wind, remindin’ me a bit of that "hidden" wonder from the movie.

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