I know we’re high up. I know our lives would be ruined if one of the boys fell, but tall plants are growing on the edge of the rooftop and I can’t see the cobblestones. If I could see that little cobblestoned street and the boys’ little Smart car, it would be easier to imagine them falling. It would be easier to remember that I’m in Paris.
https://www.newyorker.com/books/flash-fiction/good-boys

Hello Everyone 😘 😘