Mannequins

Thursday afternoon, I'm in the Luxembourg Garden writing postcards to friends I lost a lifetime ago. The air smells of spring and graveyards, I'm the only one in sight wearing all black (and Philipp Plein stiletto heels). Asian tourists in beige parkas are shamelessly taking pictures of me like I'm part of the scenery. I'm not even trying to fake a smile.

Then, just as I'm about to pack up and leave, I spot him on the other end of the fountain. He's in his Wayfarer shades and the Etro scarf I got him for Christmas two years ago, alone and purposely heading nowhere. He looks right through me for what feels like forever, then turns away and disappears like a magician in the crowds, leaving me broken and breathless and cold. It's the first time I've seen him since I returned to Paris, even though I've spent months looking for him in the streets of Saint-Germain.

Whether it's a hollow fantasy or the remains of too many beautiful dreams, I stumble towards my hotel thinking that maybe he saw me and is now secretly following me back. I only stop waiting after an hour sitting on the floor outside my room, the cleaning staff carelessly stepping over me like I'm trash. I guess they've seen far worse sides of me.

Prosperity, Strength, Devotion

I hear him talking to the villagers, talking about me the way they do with young, blonde girls from across the seas. Elle est mignonne ta copine, mais... pourquoi si pâle?

The stories he tells them - about our parents hastily moving to Switzerland to trade baroque paintings on the semi-legal market - are empty, bottomless holes but he keeps on digging. Yesterday he came back from Nice with a pair of silver gray silk-blend pants from Philipp Plein. "They're for the narrative, you know, Swiss nationalism and so on", he says, bursting with the restless excitement of a little child on the verge of pulling off his pièce de résistance of elaborate pranks. 

He puts them on, looks at himself in the mirror from every conceivable angle, then at me. "I don't care that he's actually German" he says, "I'm not getting a fucking Rolex".