prologue

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"What was she like?"

The Frenchman smiled as he thought back of the brown-haired, dark-eyed beauty whom he met in the middle of Paris—in a crowd in front of the Notre Dame. "She was trouble, chaos really. But her smile, her smile dared me to fall in love with her," He replied, cheeks stained red and eyes glossy.

"Did you love her?"

He nodded vigorously, replying, "Yes, very much," in a heartbeat. "She had my heart; she still does."

***

The short poem is from Atticus!

Paris ⊳ Antoine GriezmannWhere stories live. Discover now