March 29. 2008

In Italy they call a love affair a story. A girl will say I had a story with that guy. Yesterday I had a story. The kind that begins at the end, or ends at the beginning. Anyhow my first story in the city of light. I was sitting outside a cafe. 2 women in their late 20’s were chatting, smoking. Both of them were pretty and charming. One, in my eyes, more so. She had straight brown hair cut into a pixie like Jean Seberg. Brown eyes. Pale skin. A huge wool sweater that had… Continue

March 28th, 2008

Pretty girls sitting alone at cafes smoking Marlboros and reading Zola. Heaven.



Got the flat! It will be my home until April 15th. Now I only have to stay in this cashmere sweater stealing no ID taking shithole until Tuesday morning. I have another flat set up to run until may 15th, larger but farther away. The one where my neighbor will be the barefoot cake holding Lolita. This one is tiny, but charming right by the Sacre Soeur. It was rented to my b… Continue