Bumerang - Yazarkafe
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Little Getaways!

Saint-Germain-des-Prés!?.. I know very well what to say to me: "God, this is a very familiar thing, honey, and Sagan has done it well before you, and so beautifully!" I know.
So what do you want us to do... I wasn't sure all this would happen to me on Clichy Boulevard, it just happened at once. This is life. But keep your thoughts to yourself and listen to me, because my little finger whispers to me that you will like this story. You love unpretentious little things. Let those men who believe that you are single and unhappy, let your heart get a little bit poppy with those promising nights. I know you love it. It's normal, you probably won't sit at a table in Lipp or Deux-Magots, or read Harlequin novels. Of course, you will not read, you cannot read. Now, that morning, I met a man on Saint-Germain Boulevard. I was going up from the boulevard, it was coming down. We were on the odd side, the most elegant and the most elegant. I saw his development from afar. I don't know, maybe a bit of heavy walking impressed me, maybe the flying skirts of his coat... In short, I was about twenty meters away and I knew I wouldn't miss him already. I didn't miss it, and when I came near me, I saw that it was looking at me. I look at him with a penetrating smile, a smile like Cupido's arrow, but more restrained than Cupido's. He smiles at me too. I continue to smile as I continue on my way, I think of Baudelaire's poem "To a Passing Woman" (you already understand how I am equipped with literary information, my reliability in this field when I speak of Sagan already !!!). I walk more slowly, as I try to remember... Thin, long, mourning, full of pain... I don't know what's next... then... You are my beloved, you are the best known of it. This finishes me every time. And by the way, with divine purity, I feel the look of my still Sebastian, who is still behind me (There is a reference to the arrow here!) This look paddles my bones wonderfully but I prefer to get pregnant rather than back, if I turned back, the poetry of the work would disappear. Tags: ( #beautiful, #happen, #feel, #listen, #happen, #yourself )

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