bastille

I do not remember the name of the café, but I remember being at the Place and drinking coffee or perhaps wine and seeing the gold in the pavement outlining where the prison had been. That was several years ago now and in winter. These days I think of that prison more than I usually do, but my mind is on the other side of that history in the company of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis in nightly readings of The Three Musketeers. There, too, a fair amount of wine is consumed.