Provence / Paris Travel Log 2006-12-30 (Lauren)

Paris Jazz Club: Le Petit Journal

Here is how to listen to Parisian music. Will sits beside me writing the events of the day. We found a jazz club in the Latin quarter playing rolling jazz -- the big, jolly kind. We are drinking kir and the bubbles are rising in crisp sizzles off my tongue.

The woman in front of us wears a thin blue sweaters and the puckers from her bra spread across her back. She is a tiny woman and rounded and softened with her age -- she is moving her shoulders in time to the music. At another booth, a handsome American in a yellow t-shirt loudly tells his friends about the German girl that married his buddy, and in another booth a young woman on a date strokes her young man's hair.

The woman sitting at the table next to us is drunk. She laughs loudly in French and stands to undo the top button of her pants. Will is comforting and warm in his cashmere sweater, and I am luxuriating against the solid mass of his chest. His arm drapes over me and I am blissful beneath the indolent arc.