Moving to Paris – lourd et sucré

Les façades sont enduites de la lumière comme si c’était du beurre. Elle est dense, jaune, onctueuse. Les fleurs du robinier aussi, blanches d’habitude, sont maintenant enduits d’un jaune crémeux qui devient peu à peu doré. On dirait qu’on les a baignés comme des pralines, d’abord dans le beurre et puis dans le miel.
L’air est lourd et sucré.
Le soleil se couche, la lumière se retire, le monde est rassasié.


About atreewalker

It was a warm spring morning in the olive grove. The breeze was gentle, the air was fragrant, the time stood still. High grass, sprinkled with colourful small-headed flowers, was gently tickling my knees. Poppies were about to splash their intense red on the antic ruins. 'Look how beautiful it is all over', I whispered to the olive trees, 'a perfect time for a stroll.' I slipped my fingers into the open palms at the end of their branches and I took them for a walk. View all posts by atreewalker

2 responses to “Moving to Paris – lourd et sucré

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