There is something romantic about reading Dora Bruder by Patrick Modiano. It’s not the story itself. But the reminiscence of Paris in the 1910′s and 20′s. I want to be there. Maybe, only because I have never been there. This time seems almost ancient to me. Ah, to be in a Jewish quarter of Paris in the year 1912. Long before television. We could place our chairs on the sidewalk and smoke cigarettes and drink iced water. Is this even before cars? People walking down the street. I often walk alone on the sidewalks now. The place itself isn’t necessarily romantic. But to think of it is romantic. And the woods then. So many more trees, such a vast forest. Kisses and lipstick.