Monday, June 22, 2015

Evening in Paris - flash story



Evening in Paris.
I told him that when he asked me the name of my perfume. For a moment, I did not know he spoke to me for my mind had begun to wander after I walked into the dark bricked building. My day so far had been good and I was already thinking of my soon to be time spent working on my latest novel, so it truly did surprise me when a complete stranger paid attention to a part of me like that. He asked me the name of the perfume I wore and I told him.



 As we got on the elevator with three other people, I found myself wondering about the man who now stood in front of me. Would he go to a department store later in the day and locate the perfume for his girlfriend, wife, or even mother? Maybe the perfume reminded him of a lost love during his college years or the beginning of a new one. Perhaps the scent provoked him to think of reading old and dusty books while intoxicated and smoking Gauloises cigarettes. Still, I wondered if he even would even remember speaking to me; we humans have a funny knack for forgetting important matters only minutes after they have occurred.


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