f is for France


She always had a love affair with France, especially Paris.  Her first image 
of that magical city was from a book that was read to her as a child.


"In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines,
lived twelve little girls in two straight lines."


She was a Parisian girl, self-made, fitting some kind of template in her 
mind, elegant, chic, and thin.


 Now, living her dream in her dream city, she had friends, a challenging job, 
and a handsome, married lover.


Even as she waited for him, she thought of the deliciousness of those past

clandestine meetings, but she sensed that L' affaire was over.


"Let's walk," he said as he saw her.  She heard the words in a fog.
". . .moving to Provence,. . .can't see you again. . .think of those happy times 
we shared. . .blah blah blah."


With a quick kiss, he was gone.


"In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines lived. . ." or did they?


That pinkish-grayish Paris twilight, that she had always loved, turned 
suddenly dark.


She reached into her handbag, yes the pills were still there.

  Using a photograph as a prompt.  Photograph attributed to "Travel and Leisure."