The Traveler

“Is this the way to Metrotown?” he asked the gentleman standing next to me on the platform. The gentleman replied, “yes.”

The sky train arrived and everyone got on. The Traveler looks around nervously and approaches the Gentleman once again.

“How many stops to Metrotown?” he asked.
“About 5 or 6,” was the short reply. “Follow me. I get off at Metrotown too.”

The Traveller had all the makings of being one. Looking around nervously. Not completely sure of where to go. He grabbed the Buzzer (Translink publication) off the wall. Takes a peek at it and stuffs it in his pocket, probably to be read at a later time. He is constantly checking his cellphone. Maybe he is late for a rendezvous with friends.  He is wearing a shirt with a maple leaf and the word Canada written in red and is carrying an overstuffed pack on his back.  In his hands are a mounted poster of a Lamborghini and what looks like groceries.  Perhaps he isn’t so much a traveller but one who has decided to pack up his life and move elsewhere.  He wouldn’t be the first.

From his accent I would guess he is from Europe. Germany perhaps.

We disembark at Metrotown. The Gentleman walks before me and he heads off into the darkness. In the crowd of people I lose track of the Traveler. I can only hope he found his way.