A Letter From France, Where the Future Is Now
On Parisians’ Eighth Day of Confinement, Banging on Pots to Cheer on Medical Staff
Early this morning, I was jogging around the perimeter of the Buttes Chaumont, a now-closed park near my house, when I saw a man on a bicycle. He sailed down the empty rue de Crimée, chest thrust forward, arms open. I recognized that sensation of freedom.
A woman on the other side of the street was dragging a shopping cart. On top of it rested a bunch of multicolored tulips. “Excuse me,” I shouted to her from across the street, “where did you get those?”
“At the Lidl,” she said, …
