It was a brisk, winter's day in one of the world's greatest cities. The cafe was in the center of Paris. Lawrence Bradford took his last drag of a cigarette and doused it in the ashtray. Dark things, even thoughts of suicide had been on his mind since he arrived in Paris from New York. He was lonely, depressed and thought he had nothing to live for. This particular situation, as serious as it was, was far from new to him. Although he never attempted suicide, he often felt desolate, disconsolate. His purpose in coming to France was to be creative and write poetry. He was working very hard of late back home, and did not realize what he needed was a rest. He often found himself in a gloomy, or worse, a black mood and lately he could not derive the slightest bit of pleasure from anything. All he knew was pain and anguish of every kind, and each in its kind in an inordinate measure. He finished his coffee and requested the check.
He then, in a state of sudden amazement, saw an astonishingly beautiful, young woman crossing the boulevard, wearing a black pea coat. The wind was chilly, but to this well-dressed man of thirty-four the air was somehow changed into something new and refreshing. He forgot his dour emotional state as he became a fanatic in this instant admiration of another. He quickly laid down some money on the table and went after the woman who was holding a shopping bag. Her hair was long and dark, and her features were more than just classically pretty. All thoughts of suicide and sadness had miraculously left his mind. Some snowflakes began to fall. He had seen this woman's face in a thousand visions over the course of many years. "Hello", he said to her. The mysterious woman was not used to being approached by a stranger in public. She stopped and looked at him, into his eyes. They smiled at one another, and after a pregnant pause which seemed to last for an eternity, the girl said: "My name is Renee." She gazed at him as if she knew him all her life and found him a very handsome and interesting man to behold, although she thought the situation rather strange. "I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are," he said to her astonishment. "May I have your telephone number?’' he boldly continued, '’ I would love to call you sometime, Ms. Renee."
"And do you always ask for a woman's phone number out of the blue sky, without knowing her one wit?" Renee asked in perfect English in a clear tone. She was from Ohio and was an American teacher on a business trip attending a conference in France. "Lawrence is my name." He bowed chivalrously and continued speaking in his mildly raspy baritone: "And no, I don't usually ask for the phone number of a stranger. I'm pleased to meet you," he said. He held out his right hand and Renee clasped it gently. She was surprised with his courtly bow, but then she seemed to catch herself and the time, suddenly appearing to be in a rush yet at the same moment she wanted to stay. There was something about Lawrence's good looks and boyish confidence that she found very attractive. Late for her appointment, she did not know what to say to this intense and confident man who was obviously very interested in her. She thought and asked: "What is it that you do?" Lawrence looked down at the sidewalk, then faced her and said: "I'm a writer: short stories and poetry, mostly poetry. I'm from New York City, here on a writing expedition. It’s my first time overseas." Renee smiled at him again and he felt ashamed and amazed that just moments before he was considering doing away with himself with more than just a casual consideration. Now he decided to live, and to his own amusement, to live a long life. "I'll give you my number," Renee said to his great joy, "but I honestly must tell you I live in Ohio, and"- Lawrence cut in: "It doesn't matter." At this he produced his cellular device and she punched in her private telephone number on its keypad. "It was nice to meet you Lawrence, but I'm late for a teaching conference. You must excuse me, take care." She smiled at him for a third time, fastened a button on her coat, said "bye" with her mouth in a gentle whisper, then turned her head and continued her walk down the wide, busy avenue. He just stood and stared at her as she was absorbed into the crowd and fell out of view.
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