Paris:
Today in Paris, beyond the horrible sandwich which I was served for lunch, has been a series of perfect moments.
Now, the sun is shining. There is very little garbage in this section of the seine, and even though I could not finish my sandwich, I hunger for nothing.
I feel sort of like how kelp must feel, in a nice way -- like my body could turn sunlight and slime into life-giving nutrients.
I wanted someone to laugh with, so I made a couple friends at the horrible-sandwich cafe:
A drummer, who also "makes electronic music"; he does not read, but he's reading Hemingway.
a very blonde and smiling German boy,
And a self-proclaimed "shy" but mostly just lovely and kind sociology student.
I could have been anyone in the world to these strangers, which I think is the only reason I was able to be myself.
There is no place like home, says Dorothy.
There is also no place like Paris in Spring.
xx Monique