…and what a world it is. Over the past few days, I have been thinking a lot about my very first pen friend, Michel. He was French and he lived in Paris, in the 15e Arrondissement to be precise. I’m not sure how near or far away this is from the recent tragic events but I can’t help seeing him lying in a bloodied street looking as he did when I last saw him circa 1960: young, handsome and with the world at his feet. He visited Scotland twice and tempted me ( in charming broken English ) with descriptions of all the attractions to be enjoyed in his Capital City…. whenever I came to visit. This never came to pass ….. ‘ma mere’ saw to that …. and I stopped writing. Je le regrette.
For those people whose lives have been devastated by the sudden and cruel loss of loved ones, I have no words… only sorrow.
For those injured and traumatised, whose lives have now been changed forever… again, no words……
Michel, I realise that you could have departed this life a long time ago but I want to think of you now, reading this message, en famille, and realising that you and your fellow countrymen are not alone.
Wherever you are, mon ami, I wish you peace.