Years later I would conjure the
intricacies of walking routes across the two rivers and up leafy passages to
Lyon’s summit. Life brought me to many places, including London. I
lived in small confines on Gower
Street, where chimneys cap the row of flats ranging from Euston Road to Great
Russell Street, and where during the day the endless stream of red
double-decker busses and black cabs produces enough exhaust to make Gower
Street itself a chimney. While all
the grey & smoke at times lended a romantic quality to everyday life, it
produced, at others, a weariness.
So at night I would sit & play music by a window that faced
University College London's Bonham Carter House, dazed from the pace & price of the city, and sometimes drifting off to pastoral spaces. I once spent
a summer crashing on the floor of my oldest friend, reading books, playing
piano in mornings & evenings at the university, and searching for fireflies
on walks at night. My
time in Lyon bore that same hideaway spirit – a simple
season and easy breath after tense times in harder cities.
Faudra-t-il toujours
revenir sur ses pas, pensa-t-elle en dépassant le kiosque à journaux qui
clignotait sous le bleu.
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