Lost. Grey with a cleft peak and short, angled brim all the way round. Purchased near the Pompidou after new year’s snow in 2004, not that you can tell. Travelling alone on a train, or perhaps now in a box under a desk with gloves, umbrellas, glasses, books and other hats.
preying mantis legs and arms distressed jeans bic lighter clutched. A personal phone conversation that is too personal, and not, at the same time.
have not written have not ridden the frustration belongs to me not others