The official start of each day was marked with
the invigorating burst of citrus
as the first mandarin
(We consumed soooo many of these little gems.)
In the way that warm and cold currents run through
a body of water
the aromas of Paris washed over us in turn.
Baking bread? Check.
Melted butter? Bien sur.
The sleepy scent of chocolate? Mmmmm.
Falafel? Just around the corner.
Fresh cut trees.
The occasional cigar or pipe.
She chose SacreBleu.