It's 6:45 am. Dark as midnight. I hear the diesel van park with a rattle and a thud. The gate slowly opens and from my bed I picture this man, who has been at the Castle every morning at this hour. His steps are fast paced against the gravel.
I want him to wear a beret, loose fitting clothes and leather shoes. I suspect he's in his 60's with a mustache and tired morning eyes. He hangs a barrel Sack of canvas over his shoulders. I want to believe its contents keeps him warm on these cold dark mornings...
He's the bread delivery guy.
As we near the end of the trip, I sneak out of my warm bed to get a look at this reliable morning guest. Peering thru the window into the darkness, I catch a glimpse.
He is young. 20 ish. He's wearing neon running clothes and bright orange sneakers. He's carrying a big box like a tray piled with breads and croissants. He's got a headset in. The white cord stands out in the dawns darkness.
I suspect he's off for a run after his dark morning deliveries.
He walks empty handed back to his truck at the gate.
I quietly wish I had not looked! I get back under the covers.
I needed him to wear that beret! I saw the loaves of gluten goodness jetting out of his barrel sack. Those tired 60 something bakers eyes...wow..how I miss them now!
Regrets. I have a few.
I snuggle up to my sleeping husband. Warm under the covers.
Who cares about the Beret! ❤️ it's fresh french bread...delivered. A different kind of heaven.
Put a ring on it, Paris!
I heard it bounce against the cobblestones. A tinny sound skipping amongst the car noises, tourist chatter and the street performers guitar. I looked around fearful I had dropped something and there it was...a wedding band glistening in the late afternoon Parisian light. I picked it up and started running up and asking men who'd passed me if they'd dropped this ring.
At the Opera House in Paris.
I was dismissed! Refused! As if I'd manufactured the story to Accost them! Someone will be sad tonight, I thought.
I asked a woman who was from Turkey if she knew what I should do with this ring....
She said " congratulations you have a souvenir of Paris!"
I caught up to my husband and Hosts and asked what should I do? An ad in the paper ? My host said it was an expensive ring. 18 karat gold! Stamped and engraved.... I wore it on my first finger and went about Paris.
My host suggested turning it into the police station because it was so expensive. He said if we hocked it, it would pay for the trip!
He couldn't believe my good fortune!
After hours in the city, I took it off. And there, clear as day and dark night on my skin was a green ring around my index finger where the expensive ring had been.
The cheap ass ring!
Still a souvenir...of Paris!
Laughter the best medicine
Laughter the Universal Expression of Joy...