Red is for Revival

It was one of those rare moments that grabbed me, shook me up and let me know that I was alive.

The Parisian daylight had yet to become night, even at the late hour of half past eleven in the evening. An unnatural stillness filled the air as the city waited for darkness to truly fall before the night-owl activities commenced. The sun, in its mysterious glory, had cast a warm majestic hue over the city’s beige limestone walls, setting her aglow in magical pink-orange luminosity. Like the millions before me, I too fell under the spell of Paris. Many enchanted moments, such as this, lie embedded in my memory. The years spent living under her beautiful, lascivious skies will forever remain some of the happiest of my life. Paris’s warm embrace reminded me, time and time again, that life is full of the most wonderful surprises — moments of astonishing clarity that sneak up when you least expect it.