View from Trocadéro

Returned to the Paris apartment at 6:3o Wednesday night and noticed my well-stuffed Container Store travel bag finally exhibited marks of mortality. Still, I think it is impervious to dirt, even magical metro dust.
The Maunoury's 30 year old son and Elena, a Stanford grad, joined us for dinner that night. Elena spent a semester two years ago with Elisabet and since graduation, has returned to the Paris area to teach English. As we sat at the table to a new record, 9:23 pm!, she asked me if it would be hard to leave Europe, to leave Paris. I don't remember what I babbled in reply; I was suddenly overcome by too many feelings and thoughts to respond coherently, even to myself.