Postcard from Paris by Brigita Orel

We're coming home on the first available flight. It's been raining non-stop and our room has a leak. Patrick's got a cold and slight fever. I slipped and broke my nose on a curb in front of Louvre. Yesterday we had a fight. I told him to take the paper with the Visa pin from the restaurant table. Because of my broken nose he heard 'the paper and the pen'. We now have a pen and a useless Visa card. Wire us some cash for plane tickets.
And you said Paris would be romantic!


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