— “She was still there, with her shining coat of orange and the green belt of the RER C at her feet.”

015 : Lily Templeton Pont de Bir-Hakeim, near the Eiffel Tower
Born in 1980s in Paris, Lily Templeton currently works as Döppelganger between two careers Why Paris? Because I can’t leave. Yet. Ever. She digs the following Paris bits: 1. Its nights 2. Quiet tree lined avenues 3. Café terraces 4. The buses 5. The three P’s of Paris: the pace, the place and the people. She is, however, a bit miffed by The crowded métro, rude people (locals and tourists alike), dog shit, pigeon shit, bullshit. For more info on Lily Templeton you should send an email or visit Mademoiselle à Paris.

image: Lily Templeton
“She was still there, with her shining coat of orange and the green belt of the RER C at her feet.”

The métro stopped at Bir-Hakeim^[1] and showed no sign of moving again. It was irritating, like everything in this awful city I could not wait to leave. After the requisite time of impatient waiting with my fellow travellers, I got out of the crowded car and into the brisk night air. It would be a quick walk, at my usual speed. La Tour Eiffel stood her luminous vigil, her beacon tracing evanescent circles among the clouds.

My pace slowed at the middle of the bridge^[2] and I cast a resentful glance over my shoulder. She was still there, with her shining coat of orange and the green belt of the RER C at her feet.

A breath of air I did not know I was holding escaped me. I leaned against the railing and for a moment, we watched each other.

“I hate it here,” I told her to break the silence. “I’m leaving this place as soon as I can.”

Her light swept all of Paris.^[3] The Left Bank to where my high school stood, the Right Bank to where I live, and everything in between, those familiar places rife with memories.

Like my mother, she let my lie slide without reproach. Another sweep of her light and I was aware that it was getting late. My hands were cold. With a final sweep, she motioned me home. I knew what she meant. She should have been torn down at the end of the World’s Fair, and yet there she is, still standing, in a town that didn’t want her at first. Conceding my defeat, I gave her a wry smile before walking home.

referenced works

Bir Hakeim is a elevated metro station in Paris, which until 1949 was known as the station Quai de la Grenelle. The name was changed to commemorate the battle of Bir Hakeim, a battle in Libya during the Second World War when the Free French and British armies held off the Germans and the Italians during a 16-day siege. It is the last stop on the Left Bank on the line 6 metro before it crosses the Seine to the Right Bank. Taking this train from Bir Hakeim to the following stop, Passy, affords a marvelous view of the Eiffel Tower. For more, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bir-Hakeim_(Paris_M%C3%A9tro). ↩

Pont de Bir Hakeim, formerly known as the Pont de Passy. Made famous in Bertolucci’s film “Last Tango in Paris.” ↩

Four high-powered searchlights were installed on the tower in 2000. ↩

location information

Name: near the Eiffel Tower
Address: Pont de Bir-Hakeim
Time of story: Late NIght
Latitude: 48.855779
Longitude: 2.287731
Map: Google Maps

commentary

017 “I opened the hip high gate and found a green wooden bench in the shade” — Anne Schwartz

016 “I didn't know what it was she had that I wanted.” — Catherine Vreeland

015 “She was still there, with her shining coat of orange and the green belt of the RER C at her feet.” — Lily Templeton

014 “Paris is its own reason.” — Tory Hoen

013 “Gilded angels taking off from Châtelet, Bastille, Invalides” — Jennifer K. Dick

012 “A dialogue out of nowhere and from the 5th dimension” — Jussara Nunes

011 “I started screaming New York-style obscenities.” — Richard Nahem

010 “Her soul is okay though, she’s just received Holy Communion at Saint-Nicolas, one station before” — Tom Frozart

009 “It felt like if things continued the way they were, my body would disintegrate” — Chris Huntington

008 “It reminded me of an Yves Saint Laurent dress, of mermaids and of Christmas” — Catharine Hewitson

007 “I felt a sense of relief as I experienced the rare soothing absence of fluorescent light” — Kincaid

006 “My fist flew wildly and connected with the warm Parisian evening air” — John Greiner

005 “Someone handed me a plastic cup of white wine and I sipped it so I didn’t have to make conversation” — Claire Oldman

004 “The white winter sunshine makes it warm enough for tourists and locals to sit outside the cafe on the Place des Abbesses” — Badaude

003 “Two cans of beer in the thin plastic bag” — Bronwyn Mahoney

002 “Je ne suis pas une femme facile” — Lauren Elkin

001 “His guitar was underscoring my morning ride beyond Gare du Nord through the graffitied suburbs” — Tim Cissell

Sponsor

Interested in sponsoring Hitotoki? Contact us at sponsors@hitotoki.

Write for Us!

We’re looking for short narratives describing pivotal moments of elation, confusion, absurdity, love or grief — or anything in between — inseparably tied to a specific place in Paris.

submission form