The morning after…
The morning after the dream that was the eve at the Palais I spent the day in a Parisian apartment overlooking the Eiffel Tower. I thought about the days to come, and about the days gone by; about the moving stillness of the village and immeasurable time.
Stepping out on to the balcony, I watched the pedestrians walking the Parisian streets. I thought of the thousand and one lives each of them live; of the immeasurable time they have spent being other people, doing other things, sailing other seas and seeing the world the way only they can see it.
I could almost see their daydreams roaming in their shadows.
Story credits: Image via Marie Claire Australia.