Rue de la Roquette

On Rue de la Roquette the sun intimidates the cafes. The light piercing the street like a laser. A man screams, as a child runs through the streets with "Algeria" on his back. We leave the theatre to a gunshot -- the final note of the play, we leave dizzy because life is like that -- a gunshot and it's all over. But the air is so sweet in Paris today, and I smile, affected as I descend Voltaire Metro ...