Macchiatos, Macarons, and Malice Read online

  Her old friend, the iconic Eiffel Tower, stood strong and confident across the Seine River. Place du Trocadéro had the best viewing platform facing the tower, where ecstatic tourists gathered to pose for photos.

  Clémence sat down on the bench to admire the view. Even though she was a French native, she never got tired of staring at her. The tower was female, as La Tour Eiffel used a feminine article. La Tour stood so boldly, with such strength and conviction of her own beauty and power, that Clémence was inspired by her mere presence.

  Whenever Clémence used to visit her parents’ apartment, she would sit on the balcony, which also had a great view of La Tour, with a cup of tea. She could easily spend an afternoon staring and meditating as a way of unwinding.

  She had really lived in the last two years of her life, but now that she was back, her travels felt like a long distraction from her Parisian life.

  She sighed as she looked at her old friend now and spoke to her silently. I’m back. Did you miss me? I guess it was time to come back to reality.

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