Tag Archives: scribe doll

The Lady of Paris

When I first saw her, a few weeks ago, while crossing the Pont Saint-Michel, she looked like the ghost of a bygone age, her earthly life a memory, her soul gone from the stone.  Grey against the bleak, overcast night … Continue reading

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Queuing Outside la Comédie Française

Night is slowly permeating the evening sky in Place André Malraux.  The rain has eased into a steady drizzle and the yellow street lamps have come on.  The air is imbued with car exhaust fumes and roast chestnuts.  A smell … Continue reading

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New Moon, New Month

The crescent of a new moon is slowly emerging through the darkening sky.  A pale silver at first, now with a bright, almost golden glow.  A waxing new moon.  A middle-aged lady in the flat down the corridor, when I … Continue reading

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Paris, 14 Juillet

We were in Paris this time last year.  I was enjoying the buzz and feeling shortchanged: we don’t have national holidays in England, at least none that carry any kind of historical significance.  No religious holidays except Christmas and Easter, … Continue reading

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Reconnecting

The fountain pen feels heavy in my hand.  I haven’t written for a long time.  I mean written – not typed.  That I do every day, all day.  Click, click.  Irregular, hollow.  I tap the plastic keys, one letter at a … Continue reading

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A Few Thoughts About Lent

As the Dean traced the ash cross on my forehead and said, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ” and the Cathedral choir sang Allegri’s Miserere, what … Continue reading

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The Hour of the Book

The day is drawing in and I’m rushing to finish translating a page.  I need to look up a word and that slows me down.  I don’t like to stop mid-page but if I don’t leave now I’ll be late.  Do … Continue reading

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