I was just about to take the Paris Journal exit when I looked up. Billowy fluttery doodley scrappy sewn paper lanterns. Swaying in the breeze. Drifts of light moving through the paper. Tiny dots of starlight. Mmmmm that's nice. I want to go to there.
And just like that…I did. I'm still there. Lanternville.
It's nice. The air is glittering. There's sunshine. And loose threads. And Tom Waits is singing a Barbra Streisand song.