In a land both strange and familiar, the young souls separated by vast oceans had their first soulful encounter in a phone booth under the Arc de Triomphe.
Ziceng's breathing was still steady, but the sound of her heartbeat betrayed her, "Hmm." Su Ziceng replied, hanging up the phone, feeling utterly stuffed within.
Pello hung up the phone, yet felt an emptiness inside.
After stepping out of the phone booth, Su Ziceng took a deep breath and strode forward towards the streets bustling anew amidst fallen leaves. Whatever it took, she needed to find a place to stay.
Available park benches were aplenty. In Paris City, especially around the Champs Elysees, well-manicured velvet lawns and sparkling water fountains, if not for the concern of having no food to eat nor bed to sleep on, Su Ziceng would have been enchanted by the splendid Parisian street view.
Unknowingly, the last gleam in the sky was also devoured by the night.
