Paris has a sweet thick fog in the mornings.

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We have been walking a long time today.  A long time in this life.  And sometimes between walking, you get to the soft lilting bits where you get to breathe and think.  I’m reading Fates and Furies still.  And thinking of Paris.  As a young woman, I walked through the streets of Paris, as students do, finding a bakery, a cheese shop, a wine shop and then voila, we had dinner.  We went to the Tuileries and ate bread and cheese, drank the wine and afterward went to a café for espresso and then walked by the Seine and later found a jazz club.  I was mostly with Lebanese boys that summer in France; they had wads of cash and loved American girls.  We taught them to dance, and they could have taken us to fancy restaurants but we didn’t want to go because we had no fancy clothes.  I remember dancing with a boy from Beirut to “Born in the USA,” and thinking about how much I missed Mexican food.  Paris has a sweet thick fog in the mornings.

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Published in: on November 15, 2015 at 4:28 pm  Leave a Comment  

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