Strangers in a Paris hotel - Fiction

    The view of the city from the hotel’s roof was marvellous. The sun was rising and the sunbeams reflected back off the water of the Seine. Tim was smiling. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time. So he started taking photos with a sly smile on his happy face.

    Hellen opened her eyes slowly. Lying on her bed, she felt a cold wind that was blowing through the open windows. She was shivering all over, and turned her head quickly. There wasn’t anyone else in the room except her.

    On the other side of the street, Paul was walking along and thinking. He wrote many letters to different companies, but they went unanswered. Still. He went into the bookshop and examined some books for several minutes. They were good, but not good enough. He looked at his watch and felt worried. She would probably not come.

    A group of tourists were arguing about some organizational work provided by their guide. They apparently didn’t like this hotel either. The receptionist didn’t pay much attention to them. Her thoughts were far away, but the guide felt angry and walked out.

    They stayed away of the public eye and the noisy crowd. The stars in the sky were shining brightly. The wind was as cold as ice, but they didn’t care. They talked all night about each other and life in general. Then he kissed her passionately.

    It was time for breakfast. She was drinking her coffee when he came over to her and sat down slowly. He looked tired and unhappy. “You weren’t there, were you?” she mentioned. He raised his head at the same time as the song ‘Strangers in a Paris hotel’ came on.   
      

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