Thunderbolt | Coup de Tonnerre
A night in the Marais filled with awful instrumentals that somehow still sounded so sexy, and laughter at idiosyncrasies, complimented by a smile as bright as a million moons; with perfect attention paid to every detail. Whispering in French, English, and Frenglish, while trading stories of wander and wonder of who we would be if we weren’t who we are, what ifs, what’s next and what feels right. It was one of those perfect Parisian nights ended by obligation, leaving behind a mental memento of the power of a mind or soul or body’s connection to another; indeed, magic, and the ultimate facemaidcapade.
Ouais, c’est magique…