Soggy Leather and Musky Perfume

And that’s how I found myself in a café à 2 Place Franz Lizst nursing an empty demi-tasse glad that every other cup on the terrace were equally empty and that, though I’d forgotten my cigarettes in my suitcase (which was sitting next to a closet curtain in the 19è arr. that actually looked like a mat one rolls up sushi with… oui, far north from here) there was enough second-hand smoke to go around as les étudients disent faire un truc… pas trop… en fait… je crois… fraîchement … c’est vraiment and reading Julio Cortàzar. He’s describing a woman who sees an audience in the shadows. Cortàzar, wherever your spirit is breathing, I hope the space behind your eyes sparkled as they do when optic nerves are surprised by a sudden intake of oxygen realizing ton petit lecture (d’ailleurs, je suis gamine) has walked Rue de l’Estrapade in the rain too.