Paris

He often walked in the square of the Sacré Coeur.
Maybe even once a day, maybe more. He climbed up the alleys of Montmartre, among those ancient houses, to the white and round church, in the style of “sugar loaf”.
From up there, he loved to look at the roofs of a thousand houses, the flashes of green in spring, the silver fog in winter. Sometimes he would abandon himself on the steep staircase as from the top of an alpine mountain, to feel the wind, and enjoy the sun when it…

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Eroticism

Eroticism

Dreamer, Speaker, Doer — Writer of erotic short stories.