Tuesday, June 16, 2009 @9:40 AM
I trudged through the streets of Paris as the seabowl above our heads toppled, tilted over by some careless angel. The seabowl is vast and drowns everything in a grey gloom. Everything went grey and greyness seeped into me. I felt down, annoyed, sleepy, tired... anything but expectant and positive. This was meant to be a happy occasion but nothing was happy. Pigeons huddled under park benches, seeking some shelter with their feet soaking in the wet sand. Notre Dame was so dark, I could barely see anything. How apt, the gloom of the seabowl infecting the gloom and solemnity of the cathedral.
It was so cold I didn't want to talk. It was so cold I didn't want to move. I wish for a warm room and a blanket and a set of warm clothes. I wondered about you. Where you under this same seabowl too? For once, I hoped you weren't. But if you were, maybe we'd be able to hold each other and warm each other up, don't you think? Maybe the rain will be less grey, the sky less gloomy, the cathedral less dark and the cold less ruthless.
Buckwheat crepes. We had that for lunch. Huge, mozarella-stuffed (they use it like it is free, stuffing loads and loads of them until the bottom of the crepes leaked cheese), warm and comforting. We ate, we joked and we smiled from the warmth. You would've liked it too, if you were here. For a moment, things were looking good.
Then it was done and back into the greyness of the upset seabowl we went again....
Posted by Anonymous