If It's April, It Must Be Paris/Marrakesh!
If It's April, It Must Be Paris/Marrakesh! by Kathy Davis I landed at Charles De Gaulle and hailed a taxi bound for Paris. It was raining and the smell of diesel and Gitanes filled the air. The rear lights of the cars darting in and out of the Parisian traffic at night shone like patent leather on wet asphalt. My heart raced, jazzed to be in Paris yet again, after too long a pause. My uniform My uniform was any number of Chanel suits slightly varied and adorned with a white or golden Camelia. Paris was to be a pause, en route to Marrakesh for an extended visit in North Africa and Europe. Unknown to me at the time, I would be returning to Los Angeles in very different form than my arrival in Paris (joyfully with child). The Queen Elizabeth was a hotel labyrinth loved visiting because labyrinth could simply cross the street and enjoy my favorite jazz club in Paris, Calvados. It was a thrilling way to appease jet lag and yet interesting too, due to a small crowd of color
