Photo by Petr Kovalenkov / Shutterstock.com Heads entwined, you read Duras’ The Lover while I peered over at the orange-eating, dowdy woman clutching her pearls across from us. Is she still looking at us?, you whispered out the side of your mouth. I nodded, gurning at...
Photo by nbnserge/ Shutterstock.com I’m sitting at a terminal in Charles de Gaulle Airport, wondering about the last time I washed my hands. It’s crowded and no one is making eye contact. I don’t know much about Charles De Gaulle, besides that he was a man in old...
