Louvre Me, Louvre Me Not (Patreon)

In the dimly lit corner of the bookstore, he flips through Camus, pretending to understand. She’s close, too close, reading Sartre. “Hell is other people?” he thinks. “Hell is pretending not to see her.” His heart a tragicomic mime trapped in a glass box.

---

Imagine a playlist curated by an English girl addicted to tea, each track echoing the fluttery excitement of a crush on a French person.