Paris is a question I simply do not know how to pose. Grime and gold; reality and perception; vaping shops and tourist tat.
If I were in a Michelin starred restaurant, surrounded by all of the opulence and decadence which modern fine dining affords, and the option of a Full English Breakfast were to be offered, I would not hesitate to order it.
Have you ever watched Fleabag? I have: It really resonated with me, and I was glad to have watched it.
A shadow cast by the moon on the face of Mars is our guide through the understory. It is a marker on our divergent paths.
Each night I would pore over guide books, plotting routes all over the city, hoping to pluck up the courage to make my way in to any one of the eateries that I aspired to get in to. There was no barrier but my own insecurity.
And lo it came to pass, in the year of our infernal lord two thousand and fifteen, I was introduced to Maryland’s finest crooners, Clutch.
I feel that it is beyond intrusive to strike up a conversation with a stranger, just because you have observed something about them which makes you believe that they need your help.