Eve at the Palais

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We stayed at the Grand Palais for an immeasurable time…

We drank whisky, resting our glass to our lips, while we spoke about Henry James who had not shown up to another one of our gatherings, and about the light of the moon.

We were at the Grand Palais in Paris because Galilei had insisted on wanting to start a new year looking at the stars. We roamed the grounds under the glass structure until we waited for dinner to be served. The women and I donned Givenchy couture and the men, well, they swooned for us.

We were at the Grand Palais in Paris because Galilei had insisted on wanting to start a new year looking at the stars

The conversation was broad darling. There were different interpretations of space and time, several perceptions were assigned to the same entity and a number of ways on how one ought to have tea were listed. We looked at Borges as his eyes moved through the thousand and one alternative routes to our gathering and we watched Proust wonder off, while he stood still with a drink in his hand.

In the shadowed corner of the Grand Palais stood the skeletal maestro and his orchestra, playing hauntingly beautiful melodies and for a while there I went back to the queen and her imperial march.

I could smell Faulkner in my whisky darling. He had not come to the gathering but others had, including the Mad Hatter who insisted on a dance later on on the table, and Dorian Gray, who kept looking at his reflection in the glass.

When women in long gowns came bearing dish after dish of food we all moved to the long table filled with ivory candles of different heights and peonies holding our place cards. There were candelabras that stood almost as tall as the men. We rested our arms on those of the chairs while we whispered to our neighbours.

“I want to dip you in tea and have my way with you,” Proust told me from my left side while I reminded him how we had been through this conversation already.

Borges was on my right; his eyes lighting up whenever he caught sight of the yellow on my dress. I never fail to don yellow whenever I know my librarian is going to be around. I did thank him for the books he sent over to my house when I wasn’t feeling well and I managed to tell him a shorter version of the story Captain Marlowe had imparted.

We dined for an immeasurable time at the Grand Palais darling. When we decided it was time for a new year we started our countdown. We stood, as our faces were lit for another year thanks to the sparklers in our hands and the light of the moon.

Happy New Year to you all! Thank you for reading and shopping! Keep dreaming x

Story credit: Image via Cathleen Naundorf.

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