Alone on her balcony, she stretched her limbs, taut, stark and naked against the restless hunger of her room.
Hidden behind a curtain in Paris, I watched her.
Her bedroom peered out behind her, a homicidal battle nest of tossed bed sheets, knotted tangles and abandoned clothing. The spoils of a front line, where she the victor, had prowled like a predator and escaped.
… More A NAKED WOMAN IN PARIS.