she had almost forgotten.
Thomas and Bernhard followed her as two small shadows, like guardian angels,
along the low sidewalks of Ville Lumière.
Mary Jane seemed lost to follow with her eyes and with all her five senses,
the joy, the frenzy and the daily beat of life she did not know yet.
She could see life in bystanders, people and
among the kisses of the lovers.
In the light of her first free morning,
within the sweetest city in the world.
It was a stunning Saturday morning
in the sky above Paris.
Everything seemed perfect in the Universe
and in the flow of daily things.
A beautiful spring day which would donate millions of stars when the evening would have dressed it in black and brilliant stars.
At Ladurée House, Madame Tussauds
looked like a crazy hysterical.
She went roaming the halls, yelling at all the servants, with unbearable and raspy voice,
like a nail scratching the blackboard
in the empty classroom silence.
A sour note in the perfection
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