As these French women made their way down the windy street, I couldn't help but notice their effortless strides and contented, peaceful gazes. It was like they had nowhere to be, no worries, no obligations.
There once was a young, (Young is code for inexperienced, hopeless, grotesquely absurd, nonsensical, nitwit in Paris, in case you aren't a local.), girl named Chanel... NO! Chanon. NO No Nooo. I mean Shannon.