Winter in Paris If Jacques is walking down the right-side pavement of Rue Cadet, eyes half closed against the wind blowing on his face, struggling not to bump against the parking meters and only thinking about getting home soon to have a hot cup of tea, and if Madeleine is walking up the left-side pavement of Rue Cadet, the wind blowing from behind, hair all over her face, fists clasped in her pockets in a desperate effort to keep her hands warm, and if halfway down the street, where their eyes could meet, a large moving truck slows down preparing to turn to the right, it is no longer possible for them to meet and fall in love and inspire this novel, now impossible too. I would like to thank Joey Zazulak -joeydude- for accompanying my very short story with one of his beautiful fractal creations. Please visit his gallery to view the larger image. Thanks for taking the time to read, view and comment.