Some like it cozy.
One of our “neighbors” in Paris.
I was in Paris last week, where my daughter found a wonderful flat to rent for our visit. But for some reason, the letting agent took us on a tortuously circuitous route to get from his office to the flat. It wasn’t until we’d finished exclaiming about the gorgeous curved front room with its floor to ceiling windows opening onto little iron balconies that we saw the reason. The flat looked out over the raucous night scene of Rue Saint Denis, the not-so-former red light district of Paris. The actual street leading to our flat was lined with ladies, not one of them under age 50, who were clearly eschewing the internet in favor of going old school in their profession. Around them, music blared from clubs, cars honked, people sang, while Christmas lights splashed rainbow color on streets already…
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