JFK again, NYC, Presidents day

Today is Presidents day.
The Aeroport is overloaded 2 hours to pass immigration.
My cab driver is a happy Sikh he has 5 children. He tells me is a needy man and so must work all the time.

But now his eyes are drooping with fatigue.

Everytime we pick up speed I watch him carefully in the mirror.

Aux follies, 19eme

The night is burning in Bellvilles.
Francesca always makes the best pasta.
The terrace vibrates with the new spring.
Life is almost perfect just a few loose ends to tie up, one last bit of bad business that needs seeing to.

Rue de opera, 1ere

On a foggy night the tower is a beacon.

I am in a snug/warm attic apartment with the beautiful girl. All the ceilings slope and you can only stand in the centre of the room.

Long ago,  this would have been the servants quarters.

You can see out all across the rooftops of Paris.
Only monuments protude above the haussmanian skyline.

You can hear the rain falling close against the roof.

It is perfect.