Second to last day before I left, I have come to the conclusion that I hate Paris because I have no good memories here, but I do love the views and atmosphere. Mainly the views. Think about it at night with everything lit up. A fairytale, I tell you now. If my life had been different I think I could see myself living here, yet it isn't different and I have no reason to stay.

I was currently walking to the local carrefour (a shop). It wasn't too far, because even though I lived in a rough part of the beautiful city, the little place I had was almost hidden away from richer residents and tourists, but still mostly a part of Paris. My brown, shoulder length hair was being a bother, well I couldn't completely blame my hair - I still will - as the brisk, bitter, blustery breeze decided my hair was a new toy to annoy me with. Turning my own body against me, I see how it is.

That was a bit dramatic. Let me start again.

So I'm walking to carrefour minding my own business and you'll never guess who shows up. That's right. André. Not even asking if it was okay for him to join me on my walk he just decided it was fine. Acting like it's legal to walk on a public pathway with no malicious intentions. What is this? The twenty-first century. Oh right, it is. Again with the dramatics, it might be a disease.

Hesitantly, upon noticing my less than pleased expression his sparkling, electric blue eyes glinted with a slight weariness. 'Hey,' his warm accent was nice to hear. I still ignored him.

'Where are you going?'

'Carrefour' I answered politely not wanting to waste my words

He frowned, 'Same, want to go together?'

'Fine.' the huge grin that crept onto his face instantly making me regret that decision.

'So, you are leaving?'

'Tomorrow.' his face fell, 'Why?' I questioned, confused.

'Just wanting to see how much longer I had a neighbour,' I nodded in response.

Sudden squawking interrupted us, drawing my attention up. Bird after bird after bird swarmed over us, flying fast. I noticed that they were crows. In winter, that was strange, especially a murder this large. But I'm not an expert. I'm probably wrong.

'Wow, normally crows are around in October.' André said in awe. Maybe I wasn't wrong. I shrugged it off. Birds are animals, they can't always be predicted, but it didn't stop the goosebumps appearing on my skin. It didn't stop André from subtly glancing behind us.

We walked past a small cafe and André stopped suddenly. I kept on walking until he said, 'Want to grab a drink?'

'No,' I continued forward. He stepped in front of me.

'Come on,' he insisted , 'I'll pay.' Now that got my attention. I walked into the cafe. I could practically hear the smirk playing on his face as he followed behind.

Inside what I saw was astonishing. It was the most extravagant and mouth-watering display of goods I had ever seen. Stacks of bread of all kinds, from brioche to baguette to everything in between. Including, focaccia, pain de campagne, ficelle and sourdough. The sight of them made a growl rip from my belly and that was before I laid my eyes upon the sweeter treats. Rows of patisserie. Encased in glass, cakes or gateau's of all kinds were elegantly decorated. Macarons and profiteroles. Madeleine and eclair's. Opera and palmier. And everything you could ever imagine to find in a cafe.

It was laid out neatly too. Blue and grey napkins and chairs. Curtains with a delicate clean white fabric embroidered on it a gold pattern. Tables with a glass top and plates with knives, forks and spoons carefully placed.  Everything was perfect. Stumbling through the doorway, I felt very out of place in this beautiful bakery: as it was a bakery I now realised. It defied the usual standards but I wasn't sure it welcomed the rabble. I prepared to leave when André stopped me, 'It's fine. I am paying. Remember.'

A small little smile crept onto my face, barely there, almost indiscernible, André noticed. André noticed as my eyes flicked to the tower of profiteroles and macarons. I had an obsession with them. Quite literally. He didn't ask, just looked at my face to the chocolatey choux pastry little balls of heaven and back to his money.

'Here, I'll buy you one,' I gave him a true genuine smile. Big and bold and grateful. Grateful that he noticed.

I found it strange how quickly he offered to pay for both of us to have such a meagre pleasure, an unnecessary coffee and small delight, mine a profiterole, his a muffin. We had sat down at a small table by the window. 'Good coffee?' he asked.
Sighing slightly I mumbled, 'Yes,' I hesitated for a moment before adding, ' Thank you.' his reaction, like I had just given a kid candy.
'No problem.' Neither of us spoke just listening to the babble of talking passers-by and the thrum of the traffic building up to a roar as the morning rush-hour began. I took a sip of the delicious drink. 'This place is rather beautiful,' I stated, both surprising me and him. He recovered quickly.

'Way to point out the obvious,' his sarcasm left me smirking, so he did have a sense of humour.

'I haven't been to a place like this nice in years,' reminiscing the times I could afford to have a trip out once in a while.

'When did you move to France?' He asked, noticing my change in mood, despite his efforts to lighten it that topic was also not pleasant. Feeling suddenly willing to talk, I humoured him with an answer, 'Six months ago.'

'Your French is still this bad,' I feigned offence, but let a grin slip out.

'How come you speak english so well,' he was poor and yet his education was impeccable. The way he spoke and his mannerisms. He wasn't always poor.

'My mother taught me, said it was useful. Guess she was right.'

I watched as the faintest hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth; his eyes almost sparkling with the memory. This smile, however small, was genuine. Born of happy memories and time spent well. I felt the corners of my own mouth pull as a strange feeling crept into me - a kind of warmth. Something I hadn't felt in a long while.

A cold piercing tone shattered the silence. The smile vanished. As if it was never there - replaced by a cold hard mask. My breath caught. It kept ringing. Our eyes locked. Neither one of us moved as the shrill sound echoed around the room sending a chill through me. Despite the comfortable chatter surrounding us it could have been the only sound.

My eyes flicked to the source. A small vibrating object tucked into his pocket; too small to be a mobile. He turned away, withdrawing the phone and holding it up to his ear. I heard a deep mechanical voice but any message was indiscernible from this distance. I sat motionless as his eyes betrayed a hurricane of emotions as they surfaced and were suddenly suppressed and hidden away behind an impenetrable mask.

And then it was gone. He sat down. Painted a pleasant expression on his face and took a bite from his muffin. But all I could think of was the secret phone and the cold expression it brought to his face. There was a lot more to André than met the eye. A fresh wave of goosebumps rushed down my spine as I pushed the encounter to the back of my mind.

I finished my food quickly, not savouring the food as I originally planned. I ate it and got up to leave, 'Thanks, but I think I should go to Carrefour now.'

Just like that I was back to being cold. He had secrets and I had mine. I couldn't trust him.

Despite my obvious hints that I wanted to go alone he put on his coat and stood up. 'Well, then we should probably get going.' I almost huffed in annoyance and if he hadn't just brought me that absolutely mouth-wateringly delicious profiterole I think I would have left him with some rather harsh words. But he had brought me the first decent food I had in months, unfortunately I was too thankful to do that. So I let him come along.

I started to count the shadows as I walked. One. Two. Three. More and more appeared. Strange to see so many at this time.

'What do you need from carrefour?' His question stopped my thoughts.

'I need a little bit of food to last till tomorrow. I ran out.'

'Oh, I need food as I have had nothing since I moved.'

'If I have any leftovers you can have them, I won't be able to take it by plane.' I offered to clear any debt I owed to him. When you are poor, food is valuable. I couldn't let him have anything over me. What surprised me was the tightening around his thin lips and the way his eyebrows rose ever so slightly up. Was he not used to the prospect of someone else's leftovers or something.

'I would appreciate it,' he forced out politely.

I rolled my eyes.

○●

Heading out of Carrefour we started our walk back to the apartment; both carrying a bag of food. It was then that we noticed the unusual amount of shadows on the pavement. I looked up.

Slowly the sky began to darken. At first I thought nothing of it - until I heard something. Whispering. Hushed voices as people pointed up. I glanced at André, faced with an expression that matched my own. His sparkling, electric blue eyes had clouded over. His frantically moving pupils were alert, desperately searching for an explanation.

My gaze jerked upwards. The moon. It was edging towards the sun, creeping up on the ball of light, the light that we needed to survive. The first tendrils of darkness contaminated the blinding rays smothering more and more of the unsuspecting sun. By now no one was speaking, just staring up in awe. The digital snap of hundreds of mobiles resonated through the silent streets. The sun was being devoured and I could do nothing. The realisation sent chills down my spine. The celestial alignment should have been enchanting and magical instead it left me cold as eerie stillness fell over Paris. No cars moved. People stood by their doors, everyone looking up.

Even with none of the normal chatter of the city, no animal could be found to be singing. Did the animals know, had they hidden away?

Why did nobody know this would happen? Solar eclipses aren't an everyday occurrence. As it turned out that it was a full eclipse, only a small ring of light was left visible, I knew I shouldn't be looking, else it would damage my eyes but I didn't seem to be able to look away from the ring of fire surrounding the disc of never ending night.

Time dragged on and yet neither us or the moon shifted. Rooted to the ground we stood on like without the sun we couldn't function.

That's when it happened. The pain. An all consuming pain that sent every person that could see the eclipse to their knees. Clutching at their heads as the shooting feeling of a thousand bullets penetrated their brain. You couldn't think of anything but feel a migraine ten fold worse than the most excruciating one to exist. At some point I must have stumbled into André as we now screamed together side by side with a thousand other people. My eyes were forced shut as it grew too unbearable to keep them open.

His shoulder still pressed against mine, André leaned into any comfort I could offer, doing anything to escape the torture. Something trickled from my nose. It smelt like copper. It slithered down my face, reaching my mouth, my mouth was open from screaming so I tasted the metallic, salty liquid that I was certain was red. Red because it was blood.

Layers of layers of suffering filled my body as I felt dizzy. I tried to force my eyes open but was met with a wave of torment that resulted in my eyelids slamming shut. The throbbing never ceased despite my desperate begging. I expected, waited, prayed for it to end. It never did. In fact, it just got worse. The misery inflicted on us only ever intensified.

I felt André pass out on top of me and I knew I would follow. I didn't think rationally about how much danger I could be in if I was unconscious or I couldn't defend myself. I just wanted to leave the pain. Nothing but the pain. It hurt so much. I didn't think about how I could be dying or see my life flash before my eyes. No, it was just the endless pain. The suffering. The torture. The blood running down my lips.

I succumbed to the darkness, but not before I felt the ground disappear from under me.