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A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead…
‘Shall I wrap that one too for you?’
‘That won’t be needed merci.’ I say to the bookseller as I close The End of the Affair from Graham Greene and place it back at the discount table. Shakespeare and Co. is one of the quirkiest bookstores that I have ever been to, I come here at least once a month. With its narrow passageways, wonky-looking bookshelves, and an antique, upstairs library that is full of cozy little reading nooks I get why Tina showed it to me years ago. She said, that somehow, these stacks of books have this aura of greatness about them that makes you want to endlessly comb through the shelves and create a piece of art that actually means something to the world.
After paying I leave the store with the paper bag in my hand, looking forward to a quiet night of reading on the couch till Tina gets home. She’s working late the entire week, they are shooting night scenes in Bois de Boulogne. Passing square René Viviani my lips curve up thinking back about my visit to the set. It was earlier today when I, armed with a bag of her favorite sandwiches and my best smile, received my visitor pass and the security guard informed Mrs. Porter that I’m at the gate. Waiting for her I bit my lip and felt like housing a woodpecker inside the chambers of my heart, pecking in a rapid rhythmic succession, knowing that she again or still uses my name. After greeting me with an elated kiss she fascinated me with her stories behind the second world war setting. Bois de Boulogne didn’t look anything like I know it to be, I felt caught in 1943, with Nazi uniforms, authentic haircuts and vehicles. When she pointed out the places they were about to bomb saying how spectacular it was going to be, I shook my head. I guess when your wife is working in the movie business you get used to every day sayings like; Honey, I won’t make it home for dinner we’re about to set Manhattan on fire; I had such an amazing day at work today, we finally killed the mother, it was beautiful; Sorry babe, I gotta run, our monkey’s escaped.