While in Paris…
I of course saw all the
usual attractions.
As a writer though…
Some things just made
me go, hmm?
Like why IS the Mona
Lisa so treasured?
I think this painting is more interesting.
Or when the artist did this sculpture…
What was the backstory of
this guy?
Or this woman?
Or what was on this woman's mind?
And seeing the bones of
6 million people…
Deep down in the catacombs…
Is just plain creepy.
And my mind came up
with…
At least a dozen horror
scenarios…
One being: what if there were zombie mold spores...
And they got on my skin because I touched a bone...
And then I became a zombie!
Trust me...
The whole time down there...
I swathed myself with hand sanitiser.
And when I saw
this girl…
Walking towards a
tunnel…
I just wanted to shout,
“NO! DON’T GO!”
Then I found this haven…
Shakespeare and Company…
It’s a bookstore that opened
in 1919…
By an American, Sylvia
Beach…
And became a gathering
place…
For writers such as:
Ezra Pound, James Joyce…
And Hemmingway.
Sometimes Sylvia would
let writers sleep there…
And loan out books to
them for free.
I went back again, and
again, and again.
And bought many books…
That even though I could
get them in the States…
It wouldn’t feel the
same as buying them here…
Like Hemmingway’s Moveable Feast for instance…
Which, well…, um…did make me
go, hmm?
But Hemmingway did mention visiting Sylvia and…
Shakespeare and
Company.
So?
Does your writer mind take you places...
Other minds don't go?
Where?
Always,
Em-Musing
