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A slight breeze whispers through the grass in the late afternoon sun, blowing his main and tail into soft waves as he munches softly on the tufts of green blades. His large brown eyes are relaxed, his eyelashes glowing in the light. He lifts one foot and stomps it back down to shoo a fly away. Warm air wafts rythmically in and out of his nose and he snorts every once in a while to clear out the dust.

            

Over the wooden fence are rolling green hills and small farms dotted with oak trees. The only road for a few miles has a single car rolling over it- a ’97 black Chevy pickup- disappearing and reappearing from behind the trees. It slows and turns onto a dirt and gravel road, kicking clouds of dust into the air behind it. As the pickup comes to a stop in front of the wooden fence, his right ear flicks backward and his eyebrow lifts. The door opens and a young woman hops out wearing jean shorts, a white tank top, and sneakers, her hair shining golden in the sun and riding on the breeze.

              
At the sound of her voice he lifts his head and turns. At the sound of his voice she smiles.

Memories of Paris

The air flurried silently, casting a frozen breath over everything it touched. It stung my nose and cheeks as I walked through a garden of snow and ice. Snowflakes fell slowly to the ground, the thin layer of powder crunching with every step I took. The sky was blanketed with gray clouds as if I had been trapped inside a glass orb covered with cashmere sweater. The trees were barren; not a single leaf hung from their branches. Tire tracks rolled through the snow in front of me, perhaps left from the truck of the gardener on his way to tend to the desolate garden. A large ferris wheel loomed up behind me, its hinges fixed from the chilled air as well.

I was alone.

In the distance, through the fog, I could see the top of Le Tour Eiffel, its hard edges smoothed out by the gray light. I had been taken back in time to what seemed a simpler age, a time when everything was black and white. Writhing branches stood starkly against the white sky and ponds lie still, their beautiful women frozen in longing. Chairs sat empty around the fountain while ravens and swallows pecked at the ground for morning morsels. A door to the summer gazebo swung back and forth with the breeze, revealing more lonely chairs inside.

I walked through the frosted hedges to the edge of the garden, turning right down Rue de Rivoli. Small black cars with round headlights drove past as I skipped across the street in my knee-length white and navy plaid coat with embellished collar toward a cafe in hopes of finding une crepe au nutella et bananes. To my dismay, the cafe was closed on Sundays.

Standing on the corner, the breath rising from my lips frozen within an instant, I tucked my hands in my pockets and looked down the street from left to right, following the small black cars that drove past. To my knowledge, either way was as good as the other, so I chose to turn on my wedge-heeled boots and walk down Rue de Castiglione behind me. Gray buildings rose up around me with white awnings hanging over their doors. A young girl in a red coat and white stockings ran down the steps of Hotel de Vendome, stopping on the sidewalk to turn and wait for her mother and revealing a red ribbon curled around her hair. The doorman smiled and tipped his hat as he opened the door to a black taxi. Several square suitcases sat on the ground.

The air kept biting at my nose, I could feel the tip of it turning pink with the cold. After a while, the black taxis driving by turned into sleek town cars and the narrow street stretched out to both sides and around a large column. The buildings turned a soft peach decorated with snowflake-like lights and terraces framed with black and gold iron. Faces stretched out above each archway and every window glimmered beneath the lights. Despite the gray sky, Place Vendome shone with something, je ne sais quoi. The awnings were still white, but it was the lettering that caught my eye.

Dior. Chanel. Tiffany. Louis Vuitton. Lanvin. Cartier.

One Night

She walked in to the overwhelming aroma of spilled beer and popcorn. The bar was more crowded than usual tonight; the loud and obnoxious fraternity boys filled the booths, standing on tables, raising their glasses to clash with one another while their sorority counterparts sat below them, cautiously eyeing one another and sipping on vodka soda; a few football players sat at the bar taking shots of Jaegermeister and turning in their chairs to glance at the girls that walked by; the bartenders furiously mixed drinks and poured beers as college students waved cash in their faces, yelling in their order through a haze of noise; the usually stoned crowd sat in the corners, yelling unusually loud at each other as they tried to reconcile between their intake of marijuana and their excessive amounts of Jack and Coke; at the end of the bar, those who had obviously drunk too much too early danced ridiculously next to the jukebox that played hit songs from the sixties and seventies, awkwardly bumping into one another while trying to keep beat; from the front it looked as if there was no room for anyone else to fit inside, but the bouncer continued to check IDs and usher the line of people inside.

She edged her way through the crowd ignoring any glances from boys who got too close and made her way to the back, worming herself into a position next to the bar. She stood there quietly, credit card in hand, and waited for a bartender to notice her. As she leaned against the bar she stained her blue floral dress with the remains of beer, vodka, and soda that lay on the surface. The girl next to her stumbled upon turning with a handful of drinks, spilling vodka and cranberry juice all over her black leather boots.

Once she had a drink in her hand, she turned and walked down the back hall, passed what she assumed were the beginnings of one night stands, and out the back door. Curls of smoke wrapped around her, soaking into her hair. She sipped her drink and the soft sting of whiskey lingered in her throat as she looked around for a familiar face. She peered around a group of smokers hovering near a small fire pit and walked a few steps closer to see him. They smiled at each other, feeling somehow drawn to one another as their eyes meet.