Last walk in Paris - Part 1

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Sunday, it’s been dark for some time and the city is sparkling with lights. I’m leaving the cafe on the corner of Notre Dame, wave final goodbye to the loveliest waiter I’ve met there, I know he won’t call, I know I won’t write... but sometimes a half an hour talk about nothing and a sweet note hidden on the back of the bill is just enough. There will be no broken promises nor hearts, just a sweet memory.

So I walk out, pass laughing gay couple that was sitting outside my window, they’re still playing with their jumping smooth fox terier that wears a doggie baseball jacket. I cross the street, go by Square Rene Viviani where only yesterday I was reading Phanthom of the Opera and eating cous cous salad for lunch. Such a lovely little park but I won’t dare to walk there after dark...

I should be going towards Musee d’Orsay and further on to my hotel two streets from the  Opera Garnier, it’ll be an early morning tomorrow to catch plane back. But something makes me stop, turn right and enter Shakespeare’s and Company once again. Was it because of lampions outside main doors, people sitting on wooden boxes by the street, reading books in lampion’s light or maybe the inviting warmth of inside... I still don’t know but when it comes to books no is not the answer ;) I’m tempted by shelves and tables of new and second hand books but this time I pass them without stopping and head upstairs to the library. Suddenly I’m in a time capsule, here the ticking of the clock doesn’t matter anymore... weird it’s not even close to midnight but I’m so amazed by the old typing machine, the beautiful stone floor, wooden ceiling that I ask loud ‘Mr. Hemingway are you here?’.

I move to another room, there’s a book on opera history on the shelf, I sit down on a low sofa and start glimpsing through it. After a minute or two a girl walks in with her grandma. They sit by my side and start reading a fairy tale. But it doesn’t last long, a girl sees piano and starts playing. Mozart in Paris? Why not :) Seems I’m not the only one interested in the small recital as the little room fills with people. Some listen, some read, nobody talks. After a couple of melodies she sees her audience and gets shy. It’s the end and time to continue my last walk in Paris...


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