So many of you (namely, two or three friends) have asked me to update them as to my whereabouts so here goes:

To the left of the piano you’ll see a little bed; I slept on its equivalent on the other side of the room (off screen) last night.  Here I am at Shakespeare and Company!  My trip to Paris is as cliched young-writer-in-France as it possibly could be.  I wanted to go to the Musee Rodin this morning but alas, my debit card seems not to be working, and according to a very helpful I think Indian woman at Chase Bank, I can use it again in two hours.  This sucks, because I would like some baguette, and to do a little activity or two.

Unfortunately I find myself rather incapable of giving accurate descriptions of my experience thus far.  Every time someone asks, I feel a little sleepy.  So, in lieu of a big to do (though do remind me to compare Sylvia Whitman, the owner of this store, to the Wizard of Oz at some point), here is the list of Quintana Roo Dunne’s drawers, labeled in “perfect print,” at the beach house in Malibu:

Cash, passport, my IRA, jewelry, little toys


A bientot, mes amies!



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