In the Latin Quarter, we were given a dusky room with an alley view. I frowned. I grumbled. “The room is dismal,” I told the proprietor. “It looks nothing like your website.” He was as old as the cobblestones.
He smiled, though, and moved us to the attic. It had a view of the sky. The Parisian sky is much the same as Cleveland’s. “But it is Paris, dear,” Janet said. “Remember why we’re here.” She stood on tip-toe and kissed me. “Twenty-five years!”
Later, on the rumpled bed, I stroked her bare shoulder and considered the review I’d write.
I wrote this story for the 100 Words Challenge #334 at Velvet Verbosity.