There's something so tender about the early evening in a city, when the streets dim and windows begin to glow, revealing little vignettes of life inside. A woman with an apron at her kitchen sink. A lamp turned on beside a favorite chair. A flicker of warmth from a fireplace.
I came across the photograph above and couldn't stop staring.
I couldn't stop staring ... and imagining. It's got to be Paris right? What is the woman with the apron making for dinner? Gougères I bet. Yum, my favorite. Who does the leg in the window above her belong to? Her son or daughter? Or a stranger in another apartment? Or a perhaps a handsome stranger she'll fall in love with in the film adaptation spinning about in my head. What scent does our undoubtedly beautiful apron-clad protagonist wear? It has to be French, of course. It's turns out to be the leg-man's mother's signature scent too, and that's how they strike up a conversation in the elevator. READ MORE
