Paris Paving
(present)
Walking out of the airport, he swings his hand in order to grab the attention of a taxi driver.
One old man drives his car notices him , stopping right where he stood.
Head poking out of the window, eyes looking forward, making no eye contact, the old man asks," where" in a very thick accent.
His hand instinctly moves inside the blazer, brings out a card. Written on it "Hotel Joyce – Astotel", Reading it old man directs him to grab the seat.
Sitting inside, the journey starts. Him rubbing his palms together and frowning in cold. He was told that the Weather in Paris would be much colder than it was in Sydney, but he did not expect it to be this.
Grabbing the bag his pulls out a muffler scarf in a bright red colour. He was expecting the trail to be short, not being any longer than ten or twenty minutes.
But a surprise to him the tour went up to an hour. The myths he heard about Europe having very short distances, it realy poke a hole to his imagination, leaving him all confuse.
Maybe it was only Paris, as when he was living in London, the commuting distance was very walkable.
All while he was having a council meeting with his imagination, he was already at the hotel.
He pays the fair to Taxi, grabbing the money the old man drives away without a word. " Again, maybe the rumours are true. French people are pretty rude"
Clutching his suit case and a hand bag, he moves to the reception. Clicking on the bell, their stood a slender man in a black and white formal outfit with a bowtie on it.
"Han-nn. Excuse me, Is their any reservations on the name of Arthur Mikkelsen"
The slender man quickly goes through the computer, with a wizz smile he hands the room key to Author, instructing him to go to room no.22, the hotel was a pretty descent looking three star hotel.
InArthur didn't expect anything fancy, as he was their to attend an art exhibition and conduct Workshop.
Moving closer to his room, sees a couple next door, standing outside the room, they are probably a bit drunk.
Without any knowledge of Arthur seeing them, they start to kiss one and another, cuddling and closing the gap.
The Brunnette Lady moves her lips near the Blonde mans ear, whispering
"Bébé, quelqu'un nous observe… on devrait rentrer."
(Baby, someone is watching us… we should go inside.)
Right as the man was gonna sunk his head in her bossoms, he stops. Looking at Arthur he gives him an irritating look.
Arthur with a flustering expression opens the door , walking in he gets his luggage down. Sighing a deep breathe, face all red.
Splashes some water on his hot head, feeling a little envy on their love making session.
Changing into something comfortable, Arthur goes to sleep, clock hitting 10 PM on it.
Eyes sinking and shutting close. As he was about to get into the slumber, He hears a faint sound of love making from the next door.
Although the thick stones walls were muffling the sounds, but a bit of noise was slipping through it.
The Blonde man and the brunnette women, did really had it going hard. Hearing those sounds, Arthur grabs his ears laying flat.
Managing to get some sleep through the rough night.
Hitting the slumber, Arthur feels a vague sense of existance.
Body so light that he feels as if he is flying.
Everthing is dark, nothing in here feels real.
Yet, it gives a kind of comfort no other place was able to ever give.
It is unreal, it is unfathomable.
How could something be so empty, and still be so peacefull.
Just as he was getting familiar with the place. A loud sound echoes and a white flash is enveloping the empty space.
The once void, is all colours and shimmers.
Chaos erupting, harmony that stayed. Is vanishing.
In the white ligth, is being filled by patches of red, blue, yellow and green.
The odd colours, creeping on the chest of Arthur. Weighting him down. Struggling to escape, Arthur struggles. But he is entangled in head to toe.
Covering his vision and once again turning everything black.
Arthur in his bed in room no.22. Eyes wide open, Blood rushing through the body at an incredible pace, head feeling heavy. Getting out of the bed, after a splash of cold water brings some calm to him.
Staring into the mirror he sees himself. Wearing sweatpants, with no t-shirt.
Body lean, almost in a rectangle shape, with a good amount of muscle, it could be described as athletic body of a dancer-like.
A tall man height six feets roughly, face with a rugged stubble beard, hairs falling onto is nose, one portion swept back while another covers his right eye.
Moving through the room, he discovers the clock on the wall right above the door frame, "its already 5, hmm" he tells to himself with no surprise,"no harm in waking up a bit early".
Right as he was putting on the dress to go out, a grunt comes from his stomach. "Ohh my, my. I havent really eaten anything since yesterday" as the long journey from yesterday had left him with a little bit of nuasia.
Heading out, he grabs the Red scarf and wraps it around his neck. Walking for a while outside his hotel.
Streets are still dark and not many people are out. You can barely count them on the fingers. Many were commutter and the rest were just early birds.
Metro's or tramps arent still open, but searching for a very long he finally finds a bus service that is working.
With the help of it he moves around the city for a while, until he stopps at a station. It is finally 6 in the morning and yet not many place are open.
But strolling around he finally finds a café that is open, stomach and starving he rushes into the café.
An old man, skin as if roasted coffee beans, wearing deep red colour trench coat, grey hat. The old man seeing Arthur entering greats him,"Bonjour, Monsiuer".
Not completely understanding what the Old man just said,"Bo-n,.. Bonjour Sir".with a bit cracking voice he replies.
Old man bursts a laugh out, with a smile piercing his cheek he ask,
"ho oh, a tourist this early in the morning, didn't really expect that"
"I just couldn't sleep"
"Your this much existed to see the Eiffel Tower that you could not sleep, that's a dedication every young lad should have"
"oh sorry, I am sorry to break your illusion. It was just the discomfort of travel that forced me to wake up so early"