Relaxed. Sipping red. Happy.
All around loud, serious, happy, chatting, quiet, reflective, beautiful, 20-somethings.
Noise. Traffic. Horns. Voices. Amazing.
Leaves fall on Paris streets.
I am un-noticed by them. Culturally polite or generationally indifferent?
Another arrives. Like them, he is coming from… going to… but stopping here. Now. With them to share, discuss, debate, plan, impress perhaps.
La bise all around. A cigarette lit. A beer ordered. He is quickly woven into the tapestry of the moment.
Leaves fall on Paris streets.
They have all the answers. The two old ladies in the corner, sipping cappuccinos wonder, “Connaissent-ils les questions?”
Groups of two or three break away. A smoke. A flirtation. A serious confidence shared. Then return.
Leaves fall on Paris streets.
They will laugh, love, learn, and lead. They will succeed and fail.
Then each, in their own time, will sip vin rouge, un-noticed as they reflect on the past… ponder the future.
Leaves falll on Paris streets.
—AE MacDougall – Paris, October 2018
