Beau Boudreaux

On my last evening with Dominique, we sat at one of the outside tables at Vidanges while les voyou on Vespas wailed through the Rue du Faubourg-St-Honere and spoke again about changing my life: start doing something meaningful — perhaps taking tennis seriously or less pills, falling in love again or for the right reasons.

We should have known. Without a hint the moon darkens on time and I get bored about three or four A.M. You’re off with friends or working in the basement of the house. So I go out to stroll down one of these streets this late at night. So few souls left in the place–I