paris at midnight

i learned how to forget, how to bury the past , and keep it in a small red box, how to lock that box with words, how to convert a horrible memory to A powder of retention , i remember when i was 8 , i used to have lots of fights with my mum , i cried for hours and minutes, then my dad used to hug me and tell one of his stories he had when he was a kid ... they say time earases pain i say words do that . i m walking by my self it s 11:29 PM the only thing i can hear is some sweet Jazz music suffusing all the area , a smooth wind passing by the street carying some leaves that the trees left , Titillating my ears, i am walking not having a friend to amiabilit me or to stay by my side , i am just passing by the street watching how beautiful paris is. I see a beautiful cafe from here ,it calls frensh accent , i ran immediatly to there opened the door and stood up, it s warm and friendly , smells like cigarets and parfume not the cheep ones , i stared at my left and saw an old woman sitting on a chair wearing all her fancy clothes waiting for her lost love to come she was wearing a purple hat where feather fall from , black gloves made of birch and nylon, carying a beautiful red bag , Channel was written on its both sides . i stood up there for about 30 minutes untill the waiter showed up he said ; BONJOUR MADAME POURRAIS JE VOUS AIDER . i stared at hem trying to say that i don t speak frensh , AT LEAST I HINTED that , i got out of the cafe , running ... the sun has left and turned the sky s colour from light blue to black , and me well i am still walking in Paris , i am actually in a place calls Place de DUBLIN, it s very crowded and raspy, french people are,,,, wait ,,, it stopped,,, the clock i am looking at , people sourounding me too, what i don t undrestand, the world has stopped exactlyat12:00 midnight. the sky's colour still is blue . nobody is blinking ... i