First Time Paris

The smell of bitter coffee and the sweet pastries from the bakers in the back. At this time of year, Paris is beautiful and my lightweight blue and white dress is cooling me down. The small chatter of the French language fills my ears and I’m curious as to what they say to one another. I watch as the Parisians walk past and I wonder what their lives are like, my imagination runs wild as I create fictional stories in my head for them. This is the only café we’ve been in, but its already my favourite, the orange walls make me feel at home, and I know I’ll be back one day.