《Magic of Paris circa 1995》1. Follow the feet

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Jeanine flicked a few espresso-colored locks over her shoulder and stepped from a café, where she’d eaten breakfast. Having no immediate responsibilities to anyone but herself, she sighted the Eiffel Tower under the clear sky and headed toward it.

She avoided using a map; Paris, France should be experienced in raw exploration. A map reflects a plan and would distract her from so many interesting things she might see on her journey. A collage of tall buildings contrasting in age, material, and style lined the streets. A havoc of color and texture unfolded as a testament of monumental adaptation and survival throughout history before her with every advancement on her journey. Intermittently, small gardens with statue centerpieces surprised her instead of alleys or parking lots. Only when she was close and could no longer actually see The Tower did she resent the life-filled works of art. She turned in a circle to survey the people in the area wondering if she should ask for directions. She felt her shoulders and throat tighten. Having refused to interfere in the lives of the people passing through the immediate area, she relaxed and turned a corner. She had faith she’d get to her destination eventually.

Looking down a narrow street dominated by yet another eatery, just beyond the building’s corner, she could see a tree branch’s leaf dancing in the barely discernible breeze. She sauntered forward certain it could be yet another sanctuary of statue or a fountain surrounded by landscaped wildlife. It would probably art and, therefore it would be as interesting as many of the other statues scattered across the city, so she looked. It was a carefully cultivated green little space lacking a bench, fountain, or art. The foliage in the garden framed a view of a section of the Eiffel Tower’s leg. Awe forced her to still. Her eyes traveled up seeking, through the branches, any other aspect of The Tower. She spied the heart of monolithic steel girders attached to one another with that trademark fashion of the Tour d’Eiffel. They seemed so large and yet she knew it had to be quite a distance away or The Tower wasn’t as big as she thought it was. Sun glinted on the leaves revealing their yellow tint to the green and it alighted on that dull worn color of aged iron in the distance. Hoping that it was only a block away, she slowly started moving devouring every angle and glutting her memory with these first glimpses.

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However, she ran into someone’s chest. She noted contradicting solidity and softness as the cell phone and pair of hands that were quickly removed from between her and the stranger. She paused in her embarrassed realization that she’d just felt up a man’s chest. But then, she was confirming it was both masculine and solid and oddly, soft. He must’ve been texting and walking. He wasn’t moving and thus, not passing her. She heard him chuckle a couple of inches above her head.

A mid-coast US accent said, “Well, hello.” He stepped back while gentlemanly cradling her elbows to steady her, “Are you okay?” He sounded inviting, not threatening or judgmental.

She couldn’t look at him, though she knew she had to do so. His feet were in some heavy-duty, leather sandals. Those feet with some long-ass toes were connected to muscular and hairy legs extending from a pair of denim shorts. By his legs alone, the man should be a prime example of maleness. Yup, her eyes traveled up past a pair of thick thighs, a decently firm, if thick, stomach, an interestingly bulky chest, and seriously broad shoulders. The wind caught a few strands of long, slightly curling, auburn hair in the corner of her eye. But she wouldn’t examine that feature further; she was caught up in his gaze.

In that moment, the kindness and gentleness in his eyes entranced her. She felt solid, heavy, secure, and present in the world. If she had been floating on a cloud, then suddenly she felt grounded. The sunlight enhanced the world around her, it was more color, blinding her with its vivid intensity and she felt the urge to climb toward it. The cars passing by roared in her ears as she focused on those inviting silvery eyes. People were fuzzy intervals in her periphery.

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The smile he gave her wasn’t toothy or huge but it was charming. A dimple indented his cheek under is left eye. She had just enough breath to say, “Hi.”

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