In the Latin Quarter, we were given a dusky room with an alley view. I frowned. I grumbled. “The room is dismal,” I told the proprietor. “It looks nothing like your website.” He was as old as the cobblestones.
He smiled, though, and moved us to the attic. It had a view of the sky. The Parisian sky is much the same as Cleveland’s. “But it is Paris, dear,” Janet said. “Remember why we’re here.” She stood on tip-toe and kissed me. “Twenty-five years!”
Later, on the rumpled bed, I stroked her bare shoulder and considered the review I’d write.
I wrote this story for the 100 Words Challenge #334 at Velvet Verbosity.
I think even an attic room in Paris would be beautiful!
I agree. But some people are never happy.
Lovely, seemingly effortless!
Thanks. I especially like that it seems effortless. What I’m going for!
Or as someone said, “Living well is the best revenge.” Not sure the narrator in this piece gets that!
Revenge is sweet