“I think of her sometimes, on nights like this, when my shirt is low and the wind kisses my chest as greedy eyes stare. They don’t know there is nothing there anymore. I ate her years ago, splitting the tough skin with my front teeth to reach the fruit inside. But tonight, here, with the moon hiding behind low, yellow clouds, Beautiful Girl walks with me.”
Read More“The Corsicans want to see clearly. Freedom must walk by the torch of philosophy. Won't they say that we fear the light?"
Read Morepeople watching. i peer ruthlessly from behind my darkened eyes. observing and absorbing like film.
Read MoreThe Marais has much more to it and reveals itself as accommodating to a reformulated idea of Paris’ inhabitants.
Read MoreDuring their nightly walks she makes their personalities and the landscape come to life.
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