Paris at sunset. The sky cooks up rough gold while moody clouds drift like slow ships.
Above the roofs a charioteer holds the charge, horses caught in a forever surge. You stand below and the city lifts you, as if stone and wind share a quiet oath. The flag snaps, a quick note in the warm air, and your pulse answers.
You taste courage like clean salt and citrus. You carry it down the boulevard, into the glow, into the next corner that is ready for you.
Joshua Campbell
Director