30-something.

Here we are. Again. Also, returning to this blog that has been abandoned for months. So, it's that time of the year again and I don't mean Christmas, I mean the day before my birthday. I almost didn't do this post this time because I thought it would suck balls, because I have been in a dark place lately and I thought that it would only sink me further. It was hard to come up with good things that happened this year even though there have been many.

Let's start with the easy ones, this year I have been to four concerts: Editors in March, which was a fucking riot of energy, it was not my first time seeing them, but this time it was a non-stop of dancing and gooseflesh (also, Tom still has this voice like poured honey, if I could marry a voice it would be his). In June I went for a MILK session, the only one that has been done in Paris, with Yannis the singer from Foals, and that was crazy because it is a jam session, but it was still fun. In September it was Janelle Monae's turn and that woman knows how to put up a show! It was just incredible, I fell in love, believe me, if you ever have the chance to see her live, GO! And finally, just this week, Frank Turner, I don't think I can say anything else about him that I haven't said before, I laughed, I cried, I danced, I went out of there knowing that there were things that needed to change, and then I proceeded to make bad life choices by going to the DJ set (which was fantastic) on a work night and get waaaay too late at home. I have also gone to museums often, from Georges Pompidou, one of my favorites, to the Grand Palais, and the Palais de Tokyo, broadening my taste in art. And speaking of art, I have also gotten some on my skin getting my first tattoo almost 4 months ago (past time).

I have had my parents visit a couple more times and I have been back home three times, including Christmas last year. Both kinds of visits are intense, when they come here because we go to places like to the Formula E race, the Palais Garnier, or Versailles, when I go there because there is so many people I need to see that I barely have time for all of them. I also went to Belgium on holidays late in September and I was rewarded with the most glorious weather you can imagine and I ate lots of waffles and fries, and drank beer, and visited my cousin whom I don't see often enough. And that's pretty much all for traveling, although I have explored Paris a lot and found some really cool places.

Work has continued to be rewarding and amazing, with lots of hours in the microscope, but also some various social events and having amazing labmates that make up for long days. I got a paper published (a collaboration) and I presented again at a conference.

My love life has continued to be a joke, although I did go on some dates (that were disastrous), so I don't think that can actually get worse. I mean, it probably could, but only if I got into a horrible relationship.

Personally, it has had lots of ups and downs. My mental health has been fragile at times, with some depressive episodes, anxiety has stayed away a lot more. I guess that moving out into a place you don't know that much people doesn't help, but at points it felt more than that. It hits me specially hard when I come back from a home visit, for some reason. The distance makes things difficult with some people and more intense with others, so I have learned that I need to be around people who make me feel good. I have also learnt to let things go, which has taken me a ridiculous amount of time, but I feel like a burden has been lifted from my soul and it feels good.

That's pretty much it for the 30th year of my life, so I guess from tomorrow on I'll start being a 30-something.

Bait

The pattern was repeated during the following weeks, Rémi, or Monsieur Tremblay, would come during the moments my superior was away with some kind of excuse, he would ask me something, worrying very much about the welfare of the sweet and innocent Mademoiselle Leclerc. I would maintain the distances, using the always useful French ”vous”, but he soon started slipping calling me by my pretend first name and making himself comfortable around my desk. One day he took it one step further. 

”Chère Jeanne, why don't you join me for lunch today?” he asked caressing the hand I had on the computer mouse. 

”Oh, Monsieur Tremblay, you flatter me, but wouldn't it be inappropriate?” I was setting a bait and waiting for him to bite it. 

"Not at all, ma chérie, I always invite all the new recruits for lunch every now and then, and I still haven't been able to hear your story." He stared at me with what he expected to be seductive eyes. 

"Well, I will have to ask..." 

He cut me before I even had time to remember which was the name of my boss. "That won't be necessary, meet me at the hall at 12 pm."

He left and I held a scream of joy, the plan I had devised was starting to work. Needless to say, that was just one of many incredibly boring lunches when I had to pretend to be flabbergasted. 

A Story A Day. Story 354 of 365: Best (Part XXIV).

Leo was the one to break the silence.

-Listen, I don't expect you to reply to this now. I know you're not told such a thing every day, but I also want you to know that I only said it because I'm sure about it. And I've been sure about it for some days, I'd like to say that I've been sure about it since the moment I first saw you, but that would probably creep you out even more. I just want you to think about it, take your time, I know you need it, you told me yourself. We can take it as slow as you need to, I don't want you to feel pressured, and if we need to pretend this conversation never happened, I'm okay with it.

-I don't know what to say.

-And you don't need to say anything. I don't want you to feel forced into saying something you don't really feel.

-But,...

-Ismene, we are both grown-ups, I know that you'll treat me with respect, and I'll understand any decision you take. I'm just asking you to think about it, and to take a decision when the time is ripe and you feel ready.- she tried to interrupt him, but he kept on.- You told me that we needed to take things slow, that you didn't want to lose control and have sex with me every time we saw each other, and I obliged. It's hard for me, because every time I see you I can't think of anything that isn't you naked on the bed. But I'm restraining myself, I'm making an effort so you can feel comfortable. What I'm asking from you is the same. I'm intense, as you have seen, for me things are usually all or nothing. But I'm willing to have only some of you until you know if it's all or nothing.

-I think I can do that.- Ismene conceded.

-Thank you.

-Only, promise me that you will not be mad at me if it takes longer than you expected.

-I won't.- he sighed relieved.- I'm glad you didn't run away thinking I'm crazy.

-Well, it's not like I could have gone very far, you took me at the world's edge for dinner.

They both laughed and like that the tension disappeared. They stayed there, staring at the sea in silence for some more time, but in the end they had to leave. Leo drove her back home, Ismene looked at the stars through the windows of the car, and fell asleep without even realizing it. She dreamt of the beach in summer, the sun making her skin tan, the cold sea water on her feet, there was no one else there, only her, the sun, the sand, the sea, and the wind. Leo let her sleep, she had a smile on her face. When they arrived to her place, he woke her up softly.

-Ismene, we have arrived to your place.

Ismene simply turned around, looking for a more comfortable position. Leo shook her by the arm.

-Come on, Ismene.

-Mmmmm, I don't want to wake up.

-You can keep sleeping upstairs.

-Take me.- she said, still in her sleep.

-Ismene,...

-Please?

Leo rolled his eyes, she was like a child sometimes indeed. He parked his car properly, opened her door, and took her in his arms. She was surprisingly light, and completely asleep.

-Is, the keys. Ismene!

She seemed to react to that. Leo left her on the floor, and she looked for her keys.

-Are you seriously this sleepy?

-Wine makes me sleepy. It's your fault for making me drink.

-You had like two glasses!

-Shhh. Shut up and come with me, I want you to stay in tonight.

She fumbled with the key until she opened the front door, and took him inside by the hand. He helped her open the door of her flat, and she took him in her room. As soon as they entered she collapsed sleeping on her bed.

-Ismene.- Leo tried to wake her up again, unsuccessfully.

He shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded to undress her and put her inside her bed. He took of her bra, but left her underpants on, he figured she would me more comfortable like that. After tucking her under the sheets, he took off his shoes and his belt and lay down beside her. It didn't feel right to sleep naked as he usually would, she was vulnerable at that moment and he wanted her to feel safe. 

A Story A Day. Story 353 of 365: Best (Part XXIII).

Leo was charming throughout the dinner, asking her questions about her childhood, sharing his adventures as a fireman. He gave her the tastier bites of the fish, and didn't eat much himself. Because they had asked so much to eat, they soon were left alone. The conversation moved to more private affairs, with Ismene telling Leo how she had dumped her last boyfriend.

-I had always said that I wanted to move abroad as soon as I finished my PhD. Everyone knew, and they accepted it. He seemed to accept it too, but when the time came and Dr. Shannon made me a post-doc offer, he panicked. He told me that I couldn't leave, that he wouldn't let me, that I couldn't do that to him. I tried to reason with him, I did, but he wouldn't listen. In the end I had to break up with him. There's a limit of what I can put up with, and that was enough.

-Still, it should have been hard for you. You loved him, it's not like you can forget about love from one day to the other.

-Well, it was not like I saw him being the father of my children or anything. I loved him, but I was already seeing that it was going nowhere, and that was the perfect opportunity to break up with him. Maybe my heart is cold and frozen like ice, but I don't want to date someone who gets between me and my professional interests. Yet, he has been my longest lasting relationship, so I thought a lot before finishing it. It was specially tough for the families, I think our grandmas were already planning the wedding. My mum was kind of relieved when I told her. And my dad was happy, I guess he never really liked him.

-I'm glad you decided to come regardless of what he told you.- Leo confessed.- And I'm glad you're single.

-What about you? I've heard some pretty wild stories about your amorous escapades.

-It's all lies.- he defended himself.

-Is it?- Ismene teased him.

-Sort of. I've been dating lots of girls, that is true. But it hasn't been like I've been taking profit of them or anything. I know what I want, and some of those girls, seemed to be what I wanted. Until I got to know them better. Some others were just for fun, and we had agreed on it. And the rest took me as a challenge, I was the prize to be won.

-And you're going to tell me that not even once during all your adult life have you found what you were looking for? It's hard to believe.

-I have. Twice. The first time I was really young, in high school actually, she was a classmate, and a soulmate. We started dating when we were seventeen, and we got engaged as soon as we finished university. I didn't have eyes for anyone but her. She was my world, my only one. We weren't on the same page, though. She called off the engagement three days before the wedding. I was devastated, it took me a long time to trust on anyone again. That was the period when I simply hooked up with whoever happened to be around. I'm not proud of that, but it was the only way out I could see.

-What happened with her?

-She started dating this guy she had met at uni. They married a couple of year ago. I wish I could say I forgave her, but I didn't. She left scars on my heart that will take a long time to heal. I wish her well, though, and I hope she never hurts anyone as she hurt me.

-With time you'll be able to forgive her.- Ismene replied.

-I don't know.- he said shaking his head.- I really don't know.

-You will. I'm sure. No matter how much someone has hurt you, you always end up forgiving them, specially if it was someone as important for you as her.

-Maybe you're right.- he said thoughtfully.

-And who was the second one?

-What?

-You said that you've found what you're looking for twice. She was the first one, who was the second one?

-You.

Ismene froze in place. He certainly hadn't said what she had just heard. It wasn't possible. How could he be so sure? She wasn't that was clear. She thought of Frode, and how he had so much to tell, of how she liked the way he smelt, and his deep voice. She thought of Leo also, how she could be herself around him, and how he was so good in bed. She wanted to say something, but no words would come. Anyway, what is one supposed to reply to that?

A Story A Day. Story 349 of 365: Best (Part XIX).

His smile promised even more stories, it promised as much as his bookstore did. If there was one thing that Ismene loved it was stories.

-It does?- she asked.

-Indeed. I've been to many places thanks to the bookstore. Every year I close for a whole month and go book hunting.

The second course arrived, some kind of fish and a steak with an unidentified sauce. As before, they split it. Frode continued with his story. 

-Sometimes, my customers ask me for special books. Rare first editions. Others. I track the books and contact the owners, but I always need to see the books in first person. Most of them are in Europe, so my previous knowledge of the zone has been really useful. But I've also been to Asia and South America, once I went to Africa. And it has been enriching, and exciting, and I've seen places I never thought I'd see. Places that are out of reach for most of the people. In a way I wish I could do it more often, but I also love the bookstore, I couldn't live without it. 

-You're full of surprises, aren't you? 

-And there are plenty more. But enough talking about me. How have you been? 

Of course, he was also a listener, and a good one, and he was probably feeling like he had been talking too much. 

-Well, it has been interesting.- she said remembering both her encounters with Leo and her work at the lab.- I'm just starting my work, so there's so much to read and so much to do. Do you remeber that feeling of getting a wrapped gift and not knowing what's inside? Knowing that it could be anything?- Ismene thought to herself that it was also the same feeling that you had when you went to bed with a man for the first time, but she kept that to herself. 

-Yes, I know the feeling. Like opening a book for the first time. 

-Exactly like that. 

-So, what are you working on? 

-That's a secret, I can't tell. 

He seemed disappointed at first, but he understood. 

-Well, I hope to see you on TV, at some point. 

-Oh, that's not that easy, most of the important scientific breakthroughs never make it on TV. The scientific community knows that what looks important to society is not always what is actually important. 

-A bit like not all really good books are best-sellers. Only people in the inside know the relevant stuff. I've never known much about science, it's probably the only thing I haven't been able to master. 

-I can help with that, if you want to. 

-Sure, anytime. 

-We should exchange knowledge, isn't that how it worked in the old times?- she suggested. 

-That sounds perfect. 

The second course was followed by the dessert, and more drinks. Hours flied by and they were told that the restaurant was about to close. Frode insisted on walking her home, and as before he would explain her everything that happened in the city as they walked by. They arrived at her house and the conversation kept on. Ismene considered telling him to go upstairs and continue the conversation more comfortably, but Frode was no Leo. It would go much slower with him. At one point the conversation died off, and Frode told her that it was time for him to leave. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek leaving a trace of his scent hanging there for her to remember him. She saw him leaving, and not until she lost his sight did she get inside her house. Remembering she had a date with Leo the following day, she sat on her bed cross-legged, thinking about what choice did she have, she liked both men, yet she wasn't supposed to have them both. When she went to sleep, her thoughts kept going from one man to the other, knowing that each of them gave her something that she needed. 

Jeanne Leclerc, secretary

The Monday I started working at Rémi’s company, I woke up at an hour that usually caught me still awake and got dressed in the clothes Léa had sent me. Clothes that were much more modest than I used to wear. I skipped my makeup and did my hair in a ponytail. From that day on I was Jeanne, not myself, and Jeanne was naive and shy. I got out of the house and into the metro, which was crowded. The ride to La Défense was a long one and most of the people on the metro were dressed in office wear. I got out of the metro just under the Arc de la Défense and headed to the office. 

I had been assigned as the secretary of one of the operational officers, so I knew that sooner or later I would come in contact with Rémi, at least according to Léa’s information. And indeed, it was much sooner than I expected, as he appeared just after lunchtime with one excuse or another. He walked straight to my desk to introduce himself. 

“Bonjour, Madame Leclerc, it is a pleasure to have you in my company.” He said, holding his hand out for a handshake. 

“Mademoiselle, Monsieur Tremblay.” I corrected him, making sure that he knew my civil status, not that it would have mattered much to him anyway.

“I expect that you have an excellent time in my company, Mademoiselle Leclerc, and do not hesitate to come talk to me should you need anything.” 

He returned from where he had come not even pretending that there had been someone else he had needed to talk to. Seeing him walk away, I could feel the hate boiling up inside me. 

Open position

Léa had given me all the information and resources I could need for the case, but as we had agreed, she left the case to me. I spent several weeks studying the objective and trying to find a way to infiltrate into his life. His name was Rémi, he was the CEO of a company, middle-aged, married with two children in their late teens. He had a private office on Rue de Rivoli overlooking the Tuileries gardens, but the headquarters of his company were in La Défense, where he spent most of the time. In fact, the building on Rue de Rivoli seemed to serve for only one objective, cheating on his wife. 

According to the folder that Léa had given me, he routinely abused his position with younger employees of his firm, and his last resort was always taking them to Rue de Rivoli. After that, he usually forgot about them sending them to some obscure department in the company where he would never see them again. Some had tried to denounce it, but he had too much money and there was nothing the girls could do. He had even threatened some of them. And it had to stop. 

I thought about it for a long time and it soon became apparent that the only way I would be able to get close to him was to get a job at his company. I knew that Léa would probably have contacts, but I needed to be inconspicuous, I needed to be a girl who was desperate for money and who would do anything to keep her job. I waited for weeks until there was an open position as a secretary in his company. Léa had provided me with a personal story and an address at the house of an elderly aunt who had kindly welcomed me into the big city. I sent my CV and waited for the phone call on the burner phone I would not have been able to obtain without Léa’s help. 

When the call came, I was ready. I arrived for the interview the following day, dressed modestly, as my character demanded. Two days later, I was confirmed to have the job. 

Feminism (Women’s Day)

Are you a person who is confused about feminism? Particularly about why do we still need it; and who thinks that feminists are ugly women who don't shave or wear makeup and who are just bitter because they can't get a man and who are probably just man-hating lesbians who just need to get fucked by a real man? Are you a woman who thinks we don't need feminism because look where we are already? Have you ever considered the intrinsic misogyny of this rotten patriarchal system? 

Oh, guy, you are in the right place, take a seat because this girl is going to give you a lesson on what feminism means. Warning, it contains profanity because a) it is me, b) I get fucking worked up when talking about this, c) no, I'm not going to fucking tone down my bloody language so it is more ladylike because fuck it that’s why. 

Anyway, let’s start talking about what feminism DOESN’T mean because you lot sure seem to be confused about it. First, we need to examine male privilege, and yes that’s a thing that exists and any white cis straight man in a developed nation who has a relative amount of money and no visible or invisible disability NEEDS TO ACKNOWLEDGE HIS FUCKING PRIVILEGE. Have you ever gone to a job interview and been asked if you planned to have children anytime soon because ”we can't really have you off work for several months”? Have you ever been told to go fetch your superior because there’s no way that you are the one in charge despite being? Has anyone thought that you are not knowledgeable about a topic because you are a man? Have you ever been referred as ”Mister” while your female colleagues who do not have PhDs are referred as ”Dr.”? Have you ever earned less money than your female colleagues despite developing the same exact task? Have you been ever described as "bossy" for asking for what you think you are worth? Have you ever seen how female colleagues who were equally or less prepared than you get a promotion while you stayed in place? Has your virginity been given the status of a precious thing that must not be given away to whoever you want because it represents your purity and anyway if you go around fucking people your dick is going to shrink so it won't give pleasure to THE ONE? Has your virginity ever been a coin of change? Have you been ever described as a "slut" for sleeping with women? Have you ever had to worry that your future wife will think that you are not a virgin because you don't bleed the first time you fuck and thus she will murder you? Have you ever been told that sex HAS TO BE painful the first time you do it? Have you ever been told that your pleasure doesn't matter that the only important one is hers? Have you ever been scared to walk alone back home at night because there is a woman who is walking just behind you? Have you been told to cover yourself up because you were distracting female colleagues or that the way you dressed was the reason behind a sexual assault? Have you been told to show some skin or to smile by some random woman on the street? Have you ever received rape threats? Have you ever been afraid to upset a woman you went on a date with in case they became violent?  Have you been ever told that you were raped because of the clothes you were wearing? Have you ever been violently assaulted or killed after a date because you hadn't disclosed your trans identity? Have you ever been told that your physical pain doesn't matter and that there is no way that you are in so much pain and to stop being such a baby even when you are in pain once a month? Have you ever been pushed into thinking that a natural process that happens in your body every month is a source of disgust and shame to the point that you are driven out of your own house? Have you ever been forced to marry a woman several years older than you? Have you ever been banned from going out on the street unaccompanied by a woman? Has your body and reproductive health ever been policed by a group of old women who know nothing about it? Have you ever been forced to carry the child of your rapist? Have you ever been denied an education because you were a man? Have you ever had to abandon your studies to take care of an elder relative just because you were a man and that's what men are supposed to do? Have you ever had to abandon your work because you had children and that's what men should do? Have you ever returned from work tired but have had to do all the housework by yourself because that's what men do? 

I could go on forever, but you get the idea. Maybe you haven't answered "no" to all the questions and I know that you are going to tell me that there is something that never happened to be. And it is true, I acknowledge my privilege as a white cis straight-passing woman. I acknowledge that I have had opportunities that women from other countries or from less privileged backgrounds do not have. I acknowledge that my skin color has probably helped me in more than one situation and I have never been discriminated against because of it. I acknowledge that being cis has spared me from the violence many trans-women and non-binary folk experience. I also acknowledge that being straight-passing despite being queer ("Surprise!" said no one at this point), has spared me from comments and harassing experienced by other queer people. So, yes I am privileged, but I am choosing to use this privilege for good, to stand next to the people who are suffering and help them find their voice, to listen to them when they fight for their rights, and I am also using my energy to fight for the rights that I still not have. 

Once we have done our privilege check, let's see what feminism is NOT. Feminism is not about hating men, feminism is not about punishing men or stripping them of their rights and their safety. Feminism is not about not wearing bras or makeup or shaving. Feminism is not about stopping having children or stop being stay-at-home mothers if we want to. Feminism is not about reversing privilege so it becomes female privilege. And it is NOT about murdering men in their sleep.  

"But Laura," you will say, "that's all that those misogynistic people I got my ideas from have ever told me? How do you expect me to change my mind about the evils of feminism?"

Well, growing up is admitting that you are mistaken about some things and willing to change your ways about it. So if you are still with me I will tell you what feminism means. Ready?

Feminism means that everyone gets to have the same rights and opportunities and that no one is discriminated against by reasons of gender, race, sexuality, disability, or any other reason (except if you are a Nazi if you are a nazi you get punched and you can go fuck yourself). 

See, easy? Intersectional feminism is not hard. Stil not convinced? Do you need examples of how feminism can make your life better? Okay, let's go.

Feminism is also fighting against some deeply stuck concepts that are facing men, such as that men do not show their feelings and therefore do not cry. That men need to be strong. That men need to provide for the family. Feminism seeks to get the men from the future and from today to be able to cry in public if they need to without being mocked by their peers. To have them not feel bad when they are not strong enough. To tell them that being a stay-at-home dad is okay if it is what they want to do. That having their wives earning more money than them is not threatening them or their masculinity. Feminism wants to teach people that "gay" is not an insult and that having gay friends does not menace your virility, as well as finding a man handsome doesn't. It wants to teach that there are other ways to solve conflicts that do not involve violence. Feminism wants to help everyone understand that men who have been sexually or emotionally abused by either men or women are not weak, but victims. That raising a child is a work of two people and that both parents should have equal rights over their children in case of divorce. Feminism wants to get rid of those labels that are stuck to certain jobs as being "for men" or "for women" so boys and girls can be whatever they want and not whatever they are told to. It wants to get rid of the gendering of clothes, toys, makeup, and, for fuck's sake, FUCKING COLORS. It searches to normalize the gender spectrum and all kind of sexual orientations. And yes, it wants for girls and women worldwide to have the same rights as boys and men while raising the living standards of everyone. Still not convinced? Just think that when years pass, there will be a good side of the history and a bad one, on which side do you want to be. 

Did I convince you? Do you want to know what you can do to help? Well, feminism is about action, not about posts on social media or about giving up flowers on days like today (DO. NOT. DO. THIS.). Do not wish us a Happy Women’s Day, this is not a celebration. It is s fight. You can help by doing your share (50% share) at home instead of relying on your S.O. to do everything, IT IS ALSO YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. Make sure that your female colleagues earn the same as you. Make sure that women are promoted at work. Promote a good work-life balance in your work. Promote a safe environment at work with zero tolerance for sexual harassment. DO NOT FUCKING SEXUALLY HARASS WOMEN AT WORK OR ON THE STREET OR EVER REALLY. Do not reinforce sexist stereotypes when you educate your children. Speak up when people have misogynistic attitudes. DO NOT FUCKING HAVE FUCKING MISOGYNISTIC ATTITUDES. Do not use the ”like a girl” in a demeaning manner. Do not say that there are jobs for men and jobs for women. Do not consider women an object. Do not reinforce trans and homophobic behaviors. Stop associating masculinity with violence. Stop talking about the ”friend-zone” as if women owed you anything. Stop having violent reactions when a woman rejects you, including calling them ”bitch” and ”slut”. Stop sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. In general, respect women not because you have a mother/sister/wife/daughter, but because WE TOO ARE FUCKING HUMAN BEINGS. 

Security

A week went by before I saw Léa again, during those seven days my life continued as usual, with its sleepless nights, its long walks around the city, and the rare occasion when I did what had actually been my reason to move to Paris, photography. If there is an advantage in not having to work to survive, is that you can work on whatever you like even if you are not very good at it. It is not like I was terrible at photography, I could get some good shots now and then, but I definitely was not good enough as to do it professionally. I had enrolled in some courses, thinking that the intrinsic beauty of Paris would help me, but I was mistaken. 

That day I returned home from one of such attempts to get good pictures, I was fairly confident that I would have something good as it had snowed the previous night and the whole city was under several inches of snow. Part of me wanted to maintain the delusion, another part wanted to check the pictures out just to be done with the disappointment. However, my life, and in particular Léa had other plans. My apartment door was not only open, but there were some men changing it by one that looked at least bank-grade. 

“What is going on in here?” I asked as I had finished climbing the stairs. It was clear that it was not burglary as I had never heard of anyone trying to rob anyone else by changing their door for a better one. Léa looked through the open door when she heard me and invited me in. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m doing some changes to your apartment, to improve your security, I don’t understand how you can live like that,…” I was going to interrupt her, but she didn’t let me. “You can’t imagine how hard was it to get them to do it today. This country, I swear, there is some snow on the ground and no one works for a whole week.”

I saw that she had also added alarms and motion activated cameras. 

“Is all of this really necessary?” I asked, feeling that my privacy had been violated. 

“Yes, it is. I also have a first case for you.” 

Information

Sunrise caught me unawares, as it usually did during my sleepless nights. I had hoped that the bath would have helped me fall asleep, however there was way too much going inside my head for me to fall asleep. I had lied awake in bed, I had walked around the apartment, windows open, feeling the night cold against my naked skin, I had tried to read without success, I had chain-smoked. When the sun rose I gave up and put on my running clothes to do my morning run around the Luxembourg gardens. 

I returned one hour later, sweaty and energized to find another envelope inside my letterbox. The hour and the place were perfect for breakfast, so I decided that I would take advantage of that. I took a quick shower and changed into a pair of jeans, a loose shirt, and a thick woolen sweater. I took my purse and I walked towards the cafeteria, which was conveniently located not far from my place. 

This time Léa was waiting for me, she had already ordered and waited until I placed my order to talk to me. 

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Rothenberg. Have you thought about my offer?" 

I bit into the pain au chocolat before answering. "I have."

"And what is your answer."

"I will do it."

"Very well,..." I interrupted her. 

"You will provide with all means necessary but I will decide when and how. Also, we need to talk about my payment."

"Information." 

"Yes."

"On your mother's death." It wasn't a question. 

Luxembourg

The night air was cold against my skin. I stopped for a moment to light a cigarette and consider my way back home. The night was humid, but fog conferred a spectral beauty to the city and I just could not see myself taking the public transport. So I walked. I hadn't even bothered to check if Léa had followed me because I had the feeling that she was still up there, staring at the cemetery. 

I walked slowly, lost in thought, but alert to everything that happened. I had always been extremely careful when I walked up alone at night, monitoring the shadows that I cast and changing my pace if someone walked near me at a similar one. Sometimes I stopped for longer at the traffic lights only to cross just before it changed colors again. That night was no different. Yet, part of my brain was thinking about Léa's proposition. I wanted to do it. I didn't know why, but I wanted it. I had had enough of men doing whatever they wanted. It was dangerous, yes, but it was who I had become. Or maybe it was who I had been all the time, but I had never accepted it. 

I walked around the Luxembourg gardens on my way home, feeling the cleaner air that they produced. There was something else, I knew. Léa could be able to give an answer to a question that had haunted me for years. However, I could not base my decision on only that. I had to decide whether on its own it was worth doing it. 

I was almost home when it started raining heavily, in true newbie fashion I had forgotten my umbrella and I arrived home completely soaked. I opened the door of my apartment with my shoes in one hand and I undressed in the hall, leaving the wet dress and tights on a pile in the floor, my coat, and purse in the hanger. Dressed only in my underwear, I went to the bathroom and prepared myself a bath to get the cold off my bones. As I slipped into the bathtub, I could not stop thinking about the choice I had in front of me. 

On the Tour de Montparnasse

She had told me to call her Léa, although I could tell it was not her real name. After dinner, we walked together down the Montparnasse Boulevard towards the Montparnasse tower where she flashed a pass and was let through. We took the elevator towards the last floor, in silence. It was a foggy day so not much could be seen from the observatory, however, that guaranteed that there would be no one around to overhear our conversation. 

"As I told you in the letter, I was very impressed by how you handled the things at Pont Neuf, Mademoiselle Rothenberg." She had taken to calling me by my surname and I kind of preferred it that way. "Was it your first time?" 

I pondered what to answer. I could either lie, say the truth, or do neither. I decided to be straightforward. "Yes, it was my first time."

"As I suspected, you have an innate talent for this." She turned towards the window and looked down towards the Montparnasse cemetery. "I have a business proposition for you." 

"What kind of business?" 

"I think you are smart enough to guess."

Murder. That was the business she was proposing. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

"The kind that will do anything to make the world a better place for women." she paused and looked at me. "It will not be indiscriminate murder, we will go against rapists and abusers. You didn't know it when you threw Vincent off the parapet, but we had been keeping his trail for a long time. He had raped several girls." I shuddered. "You did the right thing for the wrong motive, we will change that." 

"Can I take some time to think about it?" I asked, needing to get out of that building and get some fresh air. 

"You will get as much money as you want."

I laugh heartily at that. "I don't need money. I don't want money. I have money in spades, as you probably already know." 

"What do you want, then?"

"Time to think. And knowledge." I said before heading towards the elevator. 

A glass of red wine

The envelope sat on the kitchen table for days, as I pushed it around every time I had a meal. I had given it much thoughts and, at first, it seemed a terrible idea. Someone had seen me push Vincent over the parapet of Pont Neuf and had decided that they liked it. No one in their right state of mind would say anything like that. However, there was a part of me that was curious, I guess that was why I had not thrown away the card. Whoever it was had the means to know things and knowledge is a powerful weapon that I wanted for myself. One day I could just not stand it anymore, I either burnt the letter or went to the place, and I decided that I might as well go. I dressed up, if I went, I might as well dress the part. Since the incident I had renovated my closet with things that I considered to be more according to my new status. One of such was a fitted black dress that went just to my knee, some heels, a touch of makeup on my eyes, the red lipstick, and my red coat, and I was ready to go. 

I arrived at a restaurant with time to spare, it was a fancy place in the Parisian sense, it was crowded, the tables weren’t particularly new, but the food was amazing and it was a place renowned for having hosted multitude of writers during the roaring twenties. I was approached by a waiter and promptly seated at a table in the terrace, as I was bound to smoke while I waited. I ordered a glass or red wine and looked at the color without tasting it. I almost expected for no one to come, there hadn’t been a date, after all, but something told me that I wouldn’t be disappointed. I was smoking a cigarette, trying to look calm, when someone sat across me. 

“Mademoiselle Rothenberg.”

I looked at her, she was an elderly woman, but I could not really tell her age as I had the feeling that she looked younger than she seemed. She had that classic Parisian elegance that we have been told that it’s predominant in the city of lights, but that it is so hard to find. Her hair was white and pinned on the back of her head in a bun. She took off her gloves as she sat down and put them away inside her purse. 

“I started to be afraid that you would decline my invitation.” she said in perfect English with a heavy French accent. “I am glad to finally meet you, I believe that you will be more comfortable speaking in English?” 

I nodded. “Your knowledge of me made me curious, so I thought I better learn it from the source.”

“Of course, ma chérie, but not here.” She turned towards a waiter who wasted no time taking her order. “We cannot talk about serious things in an empty stomach, anyway.”  

Envelope

I arrived home late, as usual, there was no one waiting for me so I had no reason to arrive early. Especially as I knew that my troubled sleep would not come easy. I checked the letterbox, out of habitude, to empty it from publicity mail, all my bills were electronic and I had no one who could write to me. There was a single white envelope with my name written on it, no address, no sender. That activated all my alarms, I knew no one could enter the building without the code and that had clearly not been delivered by the postman. I checked the exterior and the interior doors for signs of forced entry but saw none. Still, that didn't mean anything. 

Warily, I got out of the building to see if there was something strange in my flat. I lived on the third floor, facing the street, so it was hard to get a view of it. I was not expecting to see lights on or anything too conspicuous, but maybe there would be something that could show me if someone had been inside. Of course, I saw nothing. A voice inside me insisted on the fact that if someone had broken into my place with the intention to find me inside, they wouldn't have left a letter outside of it. I calmed myself and reentered. Before climbing up the stairs, I took off my high heels, trying to be as silent as possible on those creaky old stairs. Nothing seemed amiss with the door of my apartment, yet I opened it carefully, ready for anything that might come from inside. Yet, it was calm. 

Only then, I realize that I had been clutching the letter. I left it on the kitchen table as I took off my coat and opened the window to let the cold winter air in. With shaking hands, I lit up a cigarette, a habit I had taken up after the Pont Neuf incident. I sat on the window sill, my dress riding up to the top of my thighs. The street was quiet, even for a weekday at the 5è arrondissement. I told myself that it was later than usual, also. When I finished my cigarette, I lit another, calmer then, ready to read that letter that had sent my anxiety levels through the roof. Inside the envelope there was a thick card with a simple message "J'ai aimé votre travail au Pont Neuf." Followed by a place and a time, no date. 

Pont Neuf

I waited for him at the Pont Neuf under a street lamp. I had spent several hours there looking at the tourists marvel at the magic of this bewitched city, ignoring Place Dauphine to buy locks to seal their love. I hated that tradition, I hated that it had almost claimed the Pont des Arts, and I hated the tourists most of all. Yet, I had chosen that spot for the background irony, a place where people seal their love was the place where I was going to end mine. If that could be called love, that is. 

It was late already, and cold on a weekday. All in all, that never guaranteed that the city would be deserted, but it did give a good chance. I lit a cigarette and stared at the Seine. It had been running high for weeks, to the point that the service on the RER C was interrupted. It was soothingly quiet. He did not take much longer. I had told him it was important and that I would not stand it if he was late again. 

He arrived, as usual, from the Rive Droite. This was something where we crashed, as stupid as it seems, but I have always found that routines help me clear my head and, for me, that meant always passing by Saint Michel. He looked handsome under the street lights. He always did, that's probably why I started dating him in the first place. He wore one of his work suits, those that he had tailored and cost a small fortune. He looked incredible in them, but I never liked the fact that he spent so much money on clothes. He stopped few steps before arriving at where I was standing. 

"You look different tonight. And I had never seen you smoke."

I took a drag from the cigarette leaving lipstick stains on it. I looked dangerous, he meant. I was wearing my new coat, one that I had bought specially for the occasion. Red. Sharp high heels and thighs so thin that I could feel the humidity of the Parisian streets on the skin of my legs. 

"People change." I threw the cigarette towards the river. 

"You said you wanted to talk."

"You are getting boring and annoying." I went straight to the point, I didn't feel like having a long conversation and that was one of the reasons why I was meeting him in the street. 

He got closer, one hand on the parapet. "Are you breaking up with me?"

I almost felt bad for him, his pained expression as if I had taken something vital from him. I laughed. He was so predictable. 

"No, I'm not breaking up with you. If I broke up with you, you'd go and annoy me further or go and find someone else to bore to death."

He stared at me, calculating. 

"Instead, I will do it so you do neither ever again." 

I reached up to kiss him goodbye and he automatically reached down. It was easy to push him over, he had not expected it. He lost footing and fell into the water on his back. He didn't even have time to shout before the current dragged him downriver, much faster than it would have seemed, more dangerous than the surface let see. I stared at him as he fought against the river, helplessly. When I couldn't see him anymore I lit another cigarette and walked towards Place Dauphine, my steps resonating on the cobblestones, leaving the past by the river. 

Diana

We all have different loves during our lives. We have our first love, we have the one that breaks our heart for the first time, we have loves that we will never forget and those that we forget before they are even over. We have loves that never start. Then, there's loves you weren't even looking for and that change your life. 

This is a story about one of the later. Of a love that happened all the sudden and I still don't know how. A love that was surprising and fun and inevitably sad. This is a story of how Diana made me a better person and still continues to do. 

I was 29 when I met Diana. Supposedly, an established, responsible adult. In reality not much more than an overgrown teenager who barely knew how to take care of herself. Sure, I was no longer living the life I had lived in my early twenties, but I didn't feel the pull for settling that the rest of my friends had felt. And yet, I was too cowardly to go live adventures, focusing on what I thought was a meaningful and successful career which in reality was simply a way to hide my fears. I did dream of traveling and adventure, but it stayed in dreams. I met Diana at a party through common friends, as many people meet each other. She has just moved to my city and was trying to get to know as many people as possible. I am still not sure how or why we hit it off, but my only memories of the party involve talking to her. We exchanged phones as I had told her that I'd show her around, wondering what was I to show her when I barely knew the city myself. At some point during the night, I gave Diana my address and agreed on meeting her during the morning. To this day, I still don't remember having done any of that. I blame the wine. Well, I thank the wine, otherwise, I'd have lost my chance. 

It was extremely early when the doorbell rang. At first, I thought I had dreamt it, but when it didn't stop ringing I realized that there really was someone at the door. I stumbled out of the bed and searched for my bed robe before walking barefoot to open whoever it was that decided that dawn was a proper time to pay me a visit. Diana stood by the door with her best smile, a backpack, and a bag of freshly baked croissants that smelled heavenly. 

"Oh, so you're not ready yet?" she said disappointedly. 

"Ready for what?" I was barely awake, half-naked, and generally flabbergasted about the whole thing. 

"We are going hiking! You told me so! It's such a beautiful day!"

I stared at her incredulously as she entered the house and threaded towards my room. "I see that you are not a morning person, let me find you some clothes and while you get dressed I'll prepare breakfast."

I had started to wake up and was registering what she was saying. But there was something that didn't add up. I did not know any hiking spots. I had never ever gone hiking in my life. I told her so, wondering if she had confused me with someone else. "I know! But luckiky for you, I do!” There was no way out, so I gave up and did what she told me, dressing in sports clothes. She had also fulfilled her promise of breakfast, so at least I could fill my stomach with croissants and coffee. We ate in silence as she had the decency to wait until the coffee kicked in to explain me the plans. 

We spent the whole day together and when sunset came I was irremediably in love. It was the first time I was in love with a woman. It was the first time that love had arrived in such an unexpected manner. But it was love. 

Our relationship was short but filled with unexpected surprises. Diana liked to arrive at my place unannounced with some crazy plan that usually involved me dropping everything that I was doing and just going with the flow. Something that I always had had problems with. She wouldn't take a no for an answer and thanks to her I discovered many things not only about the city but also about myself. I learnt to improvise and I learnt about the beauty of sunrises and sunsets, about seeking beauty everywhere every day. It was intense, it was crazy, and when it was over it was over. Diana had already spent too long with me, I felt it in my bones that she needed to leave. Because, even though I loved her, I knew she would not stay forever. And I decided to be glad that it had happened and to be glad that I had loved her. 

To this day, I still try to look for beauty everywhere I go. It calms my tired brain. I still try to say yes to unexpected plans and adventures. And, in times, even, I propose them myself. And when I do, I know that somewhere Diana is smiling and approving of it, thinking that I'm doing well. Because that's what this love was about, about being better.