In stillness Québec flowers. Like the first shot of espresso or your last kiss of the morning and perhaps even after a perfectly placed line-break, its flavor rolls and multiples, grows and expands the way words and sentences do over full-stops and commas, the longer you linger. So linger a little longer. Come to the realization that tourists and citizens are all the same when they meet your gaze at the windowpane. Listen to how the children speak in footsteps and foreign tongues and still find each other. Notice how even grief is content to waif and flâneur along the cobble-covered streets. Later, when you’re meeting someone for the first time and their hands are already all over you, convincing you that You are a silly American and this is how we will bridge the distance of language, you are ready to surrender. Later, when you’re mouthing your goodbyes at the bus stop, you are ready to depart.