Paris
She was excited about her trip to Paris. The plan was not planned so she sat several nights on her sofa daydreaming about it. She had never been to Paris. She only knew of travel shows and decor items glorifying the Eiffel Tower. There must be something to that grand tower, where lovers meet to kiss, fiance's are born, and lonely figures pray.She thought about clothing for her trip. It is France, things must be sexy. Her first task of the day was the lingerie department of her favorite store. She gravitated toward the rack of satin cups and lace panties. "Should they match or be avant-garde? It is Paris" she thought to herself. After being practical and selecting 2 sets that could match or mismatch, she walked to the hosiery section. She walked with a little more confidence now, pretty things in hand.
She now stood before the racks of stockings. Garter belts are so passe, this is Paris! She stroked the packets of nylons, neatly packaged, settling on black thigh-highs. 'Black goes with everything', she thought. She felt giddy. Her bag was already half packed! She felt a tremor travel throughout her body. Could she endure the hours until touchdown on French soil?
The next day, wearing a mismatched pair, she opened the door. "Bonjour" she said.
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