It has been four weeks since the Paris attacks and it is only now that I can say our lives have started to get back to normal. Whatever our interpretation of "normal" is anyway.
Tonight for the first time since the attacks, Frenchie and I went out after we both finished work. We walked into an old Parisian bar in the 3rd arrondissement, not too renovated nor modern nor hipster and perched ourselves at the counter. It was apéro time, drinks and a platter to share on a Friday night after finishing the working week. Across the bar we could see the delicate slices of chiffonade jambon being shaved and falling ever so gently onto our plate from the machine, the old fashioned way.
It felt nice being there. It was the first time we'd gone out at night to a bar since the attacks. It felt like life was finally getting back on track. It felt like time to write this post.