Dear Anne,

I arrived in Paris with the scent of spring in the air. It's a still a mite chilly, but a hint of warmth penetrated the biting wind along the Champs Elysee. I walked for what seemed like hours just soaking up the Parisian atmosphere. This is my first time abroad and the prospect of spending a year here thrills me.

The scent of fresh brewed coffee brought me to the most marvelous sidewalk café. It was truly like in the movies. I pretended I was a suave immigrant and sprawled in the cast iron seat as though I belonged there. My black beret probably gave me away as just another tourist. I thought of you and wished you were here. I would have liked to experience this time of my life with you. You would have appreciated it as much as I.

Anne, I am so glad I took the time to meet you before I left the States. I'm not one to usually meet people out of the blue but something told me I should see you. Our acquaintance is a short one but somehow it seemed significant. Actually, I don't know exactly what made me answer your email. It came from out of the blue. Funny, you should write to me like that. It seems so strange to me yet also fascinating. You'll have to tell me how you got my email address. I wonder about, you know.

There's not much to say about my rooms. The advertisement claimed it was a pied-a-terre but really it is little more than an attic divided up to make a small flat. There's a bedroom suite with a bath and a living room/kitchen. The window is quite large, letting in plenty of morning sunlight. I shall enjoy that for my painting. I set up my easel already for the morning. Well, it's nice for one person but two might make it a bit cramped. You would understand if you saw it yourself.

Your eyes were pretty and soft. They are etched behind my mind's eye. It's funny, I never expected you to look as you do. I sure liked that little black dress you wore. I don't know what I expected when I decided to meet you. You were more than I imagined. I probably seemed dowdy to you. I'm not that good looking, as you probably noticed. You were kind to put up with me. Following our original date, I thought I would never see you again. I had to see you once more before I left. I'm glad you consented. You certainly didn't have to.

Like I said, I'm not one for blind dates. They make me skittish. Was it really a blind date, Anne? Did you think so? Meeting someone out of the blue leaves you with a peculiar feeling. It was nice though, if you don't mind me saying. Are you going to write to me like you promised? I hope you do. Although I may have put you off. I usually do with new people in my life. I can't say I've dated a lot over the years. Things seem to get in the way. My painting takes over my life, can't you see that? Maybe I'm an absent-minded professor—minus the professor bit. Ha-ha.

Am I rambling? You don't have to answer. In fact, if you never answer, I won't mind so much. I'll understand although I'll miss you. I do miss you already. Funny, I only met you twice, but I do miss you. I said that three times now. Will you come to Paris someday? I'll show you Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower. You mentioned you wanted to see them and here I am seeing it for you.

The tower looms up into the sky. I craned my neck looking up at it. I hadn't the nerve to climb it yet. I'm sort of afraid of heights. I inherited that from my father. He could barely climb stairs. If you were here, I would go up with you. I might tempt myself and do it anyway. I plan to visit Notre Dame tomorrow. I might set up my easel there. You know, become a street artist. They abound in Paris, you know. At least they do in the movies.

Yes, you told me you liked An American in Paris. Gene Kelly could dance up a storm. We'll watch that someday together. Probably when you finally come to Paris. Save your pennies and I'll save mine then we know you can come. I'll make it as a starving artist for a while. You don't mind, do you? You with your books and me with my paintings. We'll have fun together.

Anne, do write to me, please? I feel lonely suddenly. I get to feeling that way. I haven't many friends, never did have. Your first letter thrilled me. It took me a while to decide to answer but I'm glad I did. You're a nice girl. If you asked me about online dating, I would say I don't like it. I'd want physical contact, you understand? As long as you write to me, I'll write back, I promise.

I'm feeling tired suddenly. Probably jet lag catching up with me. Please write and I'll look for your next email. I might get back to the States soon. Will you see me then? I keep seeing you in that little black dress. You looked so nice.

Cheers for now. Write soon, ok?

Corey Clairmont