Sunday, November 6, 2011

Paris #3 - Carte Postale

Roller-bladers - one obviously still learning as he wobbles and weaves nervously - skate past on a semi-deserted avenue pavement...

A crazy man tears up rubbish and spreads it across the road with intensity and purpose, but only he knows why...

An obviously bored American waits patiently while his wife seeks directions to any shops that are upon, but it is Sunday and his patience will be tested some more...

Couples stroll hand-in-hand, their gaze wandering alternately here and there, only to momentarily return to each other every few paces...

A man struggles in the chilly breeze to light the cigarette of his beloved. A strange act of gallantry as he assists her in acquiring terminal disease or at the very least discomfort and pain...

"Les motos" buzz energetically as they strain away from the traffic lights like urban bumble bees searching for flowers to settle on at some point down the road...

The breeze ruffles hairstyles and stylish ladies frown with anxiety as their locks are tortured gently by the wind...

The grey sky sits above like a mildly threatening blanket, undecided as to whether it will darken or not, perhaps to cry some heavenly tears. Perhaps not...

A young man walks with pride in his formal cashmere overcoat half covering his tracksuit trousers and worn out trainers, a silk scarf knotted round his neck...

Coffee spills on a trouser leg, a sudden reminder of the here & now, but it's cold and no damage is done...

Buses pass with anonymous passengers heading somewhere at the mercy of a driver whose direction is mapped out with certainty not hope...

Endless troupes of suitcase wheeling travellers filter through the pavements as though part of some secret Sunday celebration of the necessity of luggage...

Parisian housewives in diamonds and fur coats match them with their shopping baskets on wheels, their elegance refined, their pragmatism defined, their destinations aligned...

I sit and watch, recording with amusement and curiosity - wondering about their lives for just a few brief seconds of ephemeral concentration...

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