when in paris you can travel the planet in a night. we started in the red light district (it's where most stories begin ... ) and decided to walk in the middle of the avenue on this first spring feverish evening. the sycamores are beginning to turn green making it my favorite color. then we entered the lands of india and all of its strangely shaped fruits. i found my favorite kind of incense called sandalwood, making the sweetest smell on earth float out of my window at this moment. we trotted on meeting smiling people from all parts of the world on the way. next stop was vietnam where we received all the wrong things and then all the right things to eat along with a can of kronenbourg. lovingly slammed on the table with neither glass nor smile, making us laugh in turn.

we felt sleepy then and thankfully paris was just outside the door so we returned to the pavement in search of the perfect cup of coffee and to satisfy a nagging sweettooth. walking down the wrong street in a district littered with old artisan workshops and iron-roofed wherehouses, we stepped into the underwood café, a former typewriter shop with books pasted onto the ceiling and a naked woman riding the moon called selen. had we completely left the planet now? it appeared so after i made a deal with the barman to have a picture show, we were served the most heavenly dessert my tongue had ever had the pleasure to melt. my show thus shall be called "art and dessert" or something to that effect.

returning to the night outside, she revealed the oracle. i see you living in .... or ..., she said, i don't know why, your face has this look for that. i smiled knowingly. my face can never hide anything to those who pay attention. words are not necessary, but i yell them into the night anyway.

next to last stop was the dance hall from argentinia, playing salsa and english pop. we spoke about the languages we speak, we learn in an instant because we are so desperate to talk. i tell her, i am more desperate to listen and what i learn is to ask the questions. so let me hear your story. the one most important meeting i have had in my life was gulliver skiing down the sanddunes of eureka. i love you all, you traveling fools.

our story ends on the saddles of bicycles, riding through the mild night with no stars nor moons but dark faces and light eyes. as we say goodnight an ugly whore starts talking to us. we have come full circle and we now know it is time to go home, slip under the covers and leap into the land of dreams.