We entered Le Select on that rainy afternoon. The trees bared of its leaves, water running down the gutter,  few pedestrians out on the boulevard Montparnasse, a few tourists in their bright colored attire under bright colored umbrellas. They could've been anywhere else in this world. Not in Paris.

 

In the skylit backroom we take the corner table, Alain seated on the banquette from where he watches the movement on the trottoir. The tables are empty except the cat, an old friend, lying on the banquette near the heater. The boulevard under the rain drips memories reflected in the mirrors on the walls. You can have a good look around, it is quiet this afternoon.