The Walking Group

It’s Valentine’s Day. I wanted to go the gay village but I feel tired and I don’t know anyone neither in the bars nor at the street. I heard my ex met someone “interesting”. She must be fucking with her in the mattress I bought.

Somebody talked to me about the Unitarian Church,, a church who accepts gay people, in general, the members are open-minded, gay friendly and think people should pursuit its happiness. I visited its website and I noticed there was a “walking group” every Saturday morning. I called the responsible and I went to the meeting point. There were 14 people, most of them Anglophones (I could practice my oral English with them), they were so friendly with me. Most of them are over 50 semi-retired or retired. We went to the Mont Royal, at -12 (with wind the sensation was of -20) and climbed the little urban mountain.walking-group1

I met a Scottish guy, a woman of 78 years old, in more physical shape than me, a nice woman Patricia, who I told her I was gay and she took it well. A little girl of 9 years old, her mother and grandmother, a lumberjack and his funny girlfriend and many others I don’t remember their names. After the walking we had lunch. That’s the only part I didn’t like, to go to a bistro or restaurant for buying food when I don’t have enough money for doing that. But anyway, it’s what old people do…spent their money in good and fancy food.

We talked about many interesting things, most of them asked me about my origins, when I came or what I was doing in Montreal. I was honest with my answers and I was well accepted.

I felt great, but in the other hand something was missing in my life…something or someone?


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