Paris, The Bridge

Who is on the train, I wonder. And where are they going? For a second, I share a space with them, before our lives bounce apart like atoms. Dozens of strangers, returning to their homes, places where meals await them, an evening of French TV, the quotidian and mundane in the city of lights. The train lights the sky, a lightening bolt. It appears between tall apartment buildings, loud and intrusive, rattling across water, the connective tissue of Paris. Moments later, all is still and the boat I am on sails onwards, following the Seine, leaving the city slowly until all is still and dark on its banks. We will pass into a land of tall poplar trees, tiny coves and inlets of mud, passing large houses that hug the dark powerful river.


2 comments on “Paris, The Bridge

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s