Leaving Paris
It’s time to go. At first, it felt like such a long time, 12 days, but time has gone quickly. I have done very little, just existed. Watched and listened, like the magpie author I have become. I will miss the chairs in the Luxembourg Garden. The sound of French (that is just that – a beautiful sound – to my ear) and the breakfasts on the third floor in my unassuming hotel. While i sip my coffee and eat my French bread I pretend to read Le Monde. Then I go out for my morning walk and buy the International Herald Tribune …
