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paris-cafe-1925{Snapshot}

You are cozily situated  in a Paris café in Montmartre or perhaps Montparnasse with a warm cup of the most delicious, rich, robust coffee you have ever had.  It’s nestled in a chalice between your palms.  The steam rises up into the cool air with a heavenly aroma that would surely rouse the most sound sleeper out of bed.  On your little table, a flaky, warm butter croissant perches on a glossy white plate just slightly to the west of the Venus Di Milo of coffees. The city buzzes all around you but instead of a car horn you hear a muted trumpet.  Instead of a police siren, a café piano. And that motorbike, a french crooner… Read the rest of this entry »