A train ride so swift and me, a sleepy soul . Like a child whose enthusiasm burns so high and then flickers away . The motion of the train lulls me into sleep .
When was the last time I was alone in a foreign city ? Was I ever …really ? Hard to recall now . I love the newness ! And yet it feels old . Old in that companion sort of a way . Ha ha ! There is no getting lost when I am always near .
The city is alive and yet somber too . This world has taken it’s toll on you and me too .
Walking within a city is to know her . Letting the crevices of warmth reveal themselves alongside the nudges of grandeur and completing one chapter .
It is delightful that I’ve come upon two of the experiences I’ve hoped for on the first day . The river Seine and a clear view of the Tour Eiffel . Oui ! Oui ! I walk across the river going from the right to the left bank and back again .
Nearly as delightful is winding my back to my Paris flat . . I didn’t get lost , hardly skipped a beat trusting my intuition .
Oooh la la ! I notice men noticing me in that subtle way the nicer ones do . And so around the corner I went to sit outside at a cafe with a hot cup Ceylon tea and listened to my surroundings .Paris has welcomed me .
blchapman 