The CourtesanThe warm midsummer sun barely begun to set over the dusty Parisian streets when a crowd of all those with means and motive flocked to the nearest sites of entertainment. Already, the clanking of hooves and rumble of wheels could be heard against the pavement before the Grand Théatre as carriage after carriage pulled up to its steps, unloading lovely ladies and neatly dressed gentlemen. Some guests arrived alone, others in groups or pairs, but all sported the best form of evening regalia of the early Empire period. Men strut about like peacocks in their colorful waistcoats and revolutionary three piece suits, gallantly offering their arms to elegant women that fluttered at their side like pastel butterflies. Light muslin gowns clung suggestively to feminine curves, delicately framing exposed cleavages and emphasizing the sway of hips as they advanced towards the building's entrance. The entire scene was reminiscent of an ancient assembly in front of a Roman temple as the
Chpt.1 - A Fatal EncounterThe city is different tonight, somehow.
Though to me, it seems different every night; always changing, shifting, and morphing along with the crowd it accommodates. It grows and shifts, lives, breathes, like an ever evolving organism, replacing the old with the new until the new becomes old in its turn. Only I remain the same within it, untouched by the passing of time.
I cannot help but notice the transformations taking place around me as I wonder aimlessly along these streets. I watch on as a handful of workers crawl around a facade of some aged building, trying to restore it to its former glory like a team of plastic surgeons reanimating the past. I wondered why they just don't tear it down like the one on Hertford Road to make room for a modern housing complex or a department store. Last week, a small Cafe opened on Oxford Street and I already miss the bookstore that stood there; I knew the family that owned it for years.
Perhaps I have walked these streets for far