VINCENT MOREAU
For a long time, romantics have thought of Paris as the City of Love.
As a young boy who lived on those streets, I never saw why, though. There was not so much I thought was lovely about it. There were too many angry voices, fights in the streets, blood baths, and evil men for me to think too much about love in those times.
It would take a bedtime conversation with Cassandra for me to understand that it was not as much to do with love as it was to do with s*x. There was something about s*x in Parisian streets, something that made you think you could get it with nothing but the blink of an eye. Something that meant you could get any kind of s*x you sought, for there was always someone to provide. I thought this was no lie, and that there was a bit of truth in it.
Years
