“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for all of Paris is a moveable feast.”
Ernest Hemingway (1950)
Long ago and far away, he sat on rooftops as his friend from Milano strummed a guitar and sang Neil Young songs.
It was warm and the breeze from the sea felt good. He would wake up at dawn and walk to the bakery - fresh pastries with the morning sun
