i chance upon the open market at avenue du president wilson. the food! the cheeses! the wines! the clothes! the bags! the scarves! 45 euros, the lady says, of the colorful bit o' silk from india that tugs at my heart.
i eventually end up at the modern art museum. the abstractions! the colors! the shades of night! the shapes! the light! fortunately for me, the indian silk loses its charm next to picasso.
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