Once there was an old hobo named Armand who wouldn't have lived anywhere but in paris. So that is where he lives.
Everything he owned could be pushed around in and old baby buggy without and hood, so he had no worries about rents or burglars. All the ragged cloths he owned was on his back, so he didn't need to bother with trunks or dry-cleaners.
It was easy for him to move from one hidey-hole to another so that is what he was doing one late morning in december. It was cold day with the gray sky hanging on the very chimney pots of Paris. But Armand did not mind because he had a tickly feeling that something new and exciting was going to happen to him today.
He hummed a gay (happy) tune to himself as he pushed his buggy through the flower market at the side of Notre Dame cathedral.
