Paris Evening
13 November 2015
It is Friday, around five. He isstrolling on the rue Voltaire, flâneurfor the young century. The afternoon is crumbling,
the trees are shutting down for winter,leaves pirouetting to the streetand cracking like small bones beneath his feet.
All around him, the streetlights are coming on,canisters of empire, recalling dayswhen endings were clamorous.
He stops at ...
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