I dream of waking up in a small pad with Fleur-de-lis pattern all over the wall. I will peek at window and my eyes will capture the outline of the “most photographed icon” in the world. I will excitedly take in a lot of fresh air, as if that is going to be my last, and exhale happiness. I will eagerly prepare and go out with a beam in my face. I will stroll on the long avenue until I reach a historical image that distinguishes it from any other avenues worldwide. I will then go to a cafe for breakfast. Am I alone? I do not really care. Being physically there will be the entire thing that will matter. To continue, I will converse with the waitress. I will be delighted and proud of myself as I drop those phrases with the accent, enough for her to catch it…
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