Over the bridge to Chez Ballu. On the narrow walkway comes a man the other way, newspaper tented on his head against the rain. He was short and black and we laughed as we passed each other – we were both getting soaked. His high cheekbones and glittering eyes reminded me of someone and for an instant I thought of him too, alive and caught in a Paris rain. It made me feel good to laugh at our predicament, against the odds. Smart people took the bus but for some reason we wanted to cross the bridge just then. A stern Frenchman walked behind, a long look on his face. What are those two ducks laughing at? Hed put on his de rigueur face and left his humor at home. It only made me want to laugh harder. Theres no explanation for anything.
Posted on: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 12:49:34 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015