Fighting my way through the Metro and jostling
with rude French commuters I found my way back
to where Edith was born. The street was now entirely
Taken over by the Chinese, and best of all several
weddings were going on. The Chinese really can
throw a party, noise, laughter and lovely brides.
While I sat on the steps outside Edith’s house, her
voice came back to me – the offensive blue rinsed
man had not succeeded after all.
It was a beautiful autumnal day and together Edith
and I walked to a park overlooking Paris and saw,
at safe distance, the Fabled Eifel tower looking old,
yet elegant in glorious sunlight.
