Why I would return to Paris by Bridget Price
Travel Tips for Why I would return to Paris
Paris. Springtime. A cheap hostel. Advertised as decrepit but romantically situated. The holiest of holes. Iron clad beds with blue striped mattresses. Soiled prints of Edith Piaf sticky taped to crimson flaking walls. Sadie loved Edith Piaf, she would refer to her as ‘little sparrow’ as though they crossed paths in another lifetime. They were born with the same watery eyes. My eyes were grey. Cloudy grey. Not even a proper colour. A shade. Once I suggested Sadie cut her hair short, curl it like Edith’s. She frowned between arched eyebrows. “Admiration and obsession are different things. I don’t want to be her.” There was contempt in her voice, something easily ignored. She failed to mention she had friends in this city of red. A friend. Had I known, I would have suggested Vienna instead. We met her friend Vanessa at

















