February 13, 2005 08:52 AM
“All is a sign and each sign has a message.” * I came upon a postcard I had saved for years with this quote scrawled upon it in smeared and faded ink. In turn came a flood of old memories. This in turn triggered the acute sensation of walking alone through an empty street in Paris on the Left Bank, the smell there of cheap lilac cologne and vomit, hearing the sound of an awkwardly played Erik Satie piano piece wafting through an open window, stopping to look up at gently billowing frayed lace curtains, – and feeling a hollow space directly carved deep into my heart.
* – Proust