sense memories

Every time I ride BART, the screeching of the rails and (usually) the smell of urine lingering in a dark corner remind me of Paris.

I had a 40 minute commute on the metro everyday to classes: from the northern part of the city all the way south to my school. Three blocks, one transfer, and usually a stop for un cafe, svp, later, I would round the corner, push open the heavy wooden doors and make my way up to class.

And on my way back to SF tonight, I sat catty-corner from three French people...and the illusion was *almost* complete.