Brief squibs from Paris.
I returned to our hotel yesterday evening somewhat ahead of the pack, owing to a slight, er, traveler's malady. As I entered, the concierge said to me, "The nomination is for London!"
I said, "Bonnes nouvelles pour tout le monde!"—meaning both our cities, as we'd been discussing earlier—and she readily agreed.
I began a new short story later that evening, sitting with █████ at a sidewalk café in the Avenue Bosquet, in pen in a little notebook she bought for me for just that purpose. The best moment so far in a holiday full of best moments.
