Thursday is perhaps the least convenient birthday day to have with my Friday writing schedule. How are you Soren dear? I am dead and exhausted. Walking over 10,000 steps everyday. France is so humid and hot right now like the heatwave back in England a few weeks ago. I shall get into more detail about everything that’s been happening when I’m back, I promise. For now I am busy and heat-tired. Mom is finally taking me seriously when I tell her my medication makes me more prone to heat exhaustion and general heat suffering. It took some heat suffering to do. We got into Paris a few days ago. Mom started crying on the way to the hotel because she wished you were here. We went to a flea market with many vintage things: 19th century clothes and fashion plates. My own, too expensive to obtain, heaven. The bushes outside Notre Dame are full of rats. You can hear them squeaking and rustling. We went to the Luxembourg Garden, Père Lachaise Cemetery, Paris Opera last night, and stayed in Oscar Wilde’s alleged death-room. Now we’re in a different hotel. I’m so tired. So much walking. The hotel today gave me some chocolates.
I will be back with more detail I promise. Just when I am less busy. For now all you need to know is that I am thinking of you always. I don’t remember when we left for the cabin in 2016, but I know it is between now, when I was definitely at home, and the 4th of July, when we were definitely there. It will be ten years now though I know not when. I will give Kill All Your Friends (MCR) another listen in honor. What a legacy. We’ve had such terrible luck to attain such an impressive number. Half your life and very soon half of mine. Lord send a storm to wash it all away. Still we go on. I miss you. You would like Paris. More than me.
With love,
Alice