Contelysia

The familiar stench of cheap perfume, perspiration, and old concrete invades my nose. The metro in Paris is something I have an acquired taste of. The open windows give way to cool air, my extraordinary height giving me an advantage by relieving the olfactory overload I bore. But the people, crashing into me from every unimaginable direction, and the suffocation lessens my love for this underground train.  Yes, that's what I said, an acquired taste. I have been here for ten months now. With admission into a university here, I have become familiar with Paris and its people. The metro is a constant in my Parisian life. It remains there to carry me to my destination, no matter how mad I get when there are more than five people around me, or how happy I get when my favorite songs help me escape from everything that bothers me, and the steady beat of the metro moving on the old track reverberates through every cell of my body. I am so ready to get my day over with. It was a good day at