Parisienne thoughts

Parisienne thoughts.

Sitting in the jardín (courtyard) of the Hotel du Moulin. The sun is lighting the rim of the wall and my little square of sky is clear blue. N is in the bathroom. I'm finishing last night's Smirnoff Ice.

Jesus, I was troubled last night. Couldn't get to sleep. That going back thing (I avoid the use of "home"). Thoughts of returning to the job.

It's been good here. The place (Montmartre), the people, the trip. Leaving the job behind. Being me - insofar as I know what that is. Just being.

I guess Paris is a good place for that - like many major cities. Letting everything slip to the floor like a silk robe from an actor's back. Slipping into something more comfortable. Me.

I hear N cough from inside the room. I'll enjoy a few more moments in the courtyard. Savour the echoing sounds of the waking city. The voices of Montmartre setting out its stall.

Today is Tuesday. One last wander through the streets. We'll see la Tour Eiffel, as tourists ought, then I'll buy a brolly from Desigual if I can, to light my soul through one more winter.