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
"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
She reached into her handbag, yes the pills were still there.
Using a photograph as a prompt. Photograph attributed to "Travel and Leisure."