In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

urned cigarette into the ashtray. She stood up, smoothing her sweater
over her curves and shook out her curls. She had the whole café
mesmerized, but he ignored all this theater and turned to huddle with
Max.
"Saluts, les mecs, Forza!" And Penny to followed her out.
"Okay, so, Sainte Chapelle, then Cluny, across the river?"
"Well, first I need to get some cash."
"Okay. Do you have a card, or traveler's checks?" Maia asked,
pushing the door open with her hip.
"Bankomat, that's what I used in Ireland, and the rates were
great. There must be one around here somewhere."
They found one on the corner at République, and Penny
punched in for ten thousand francs. The machine spit them out. Soon
they would be worthless as the Euro took over.
They took the metro to Châtelet and walked to the Île de la Cité
across the Pont Neuf. Lovers and a few lonely winos with bundles were
sitting in each of the half-moon seats carved into the sides of the
bridge. Maia said nothing the whole way, she was too busy being
herself. Guys stared at her from every corner, even from their cars,
from across the river, it was like a bad movie. Penny had become
invisible. Small people know the advantage of this, to see without being
seen, to slip in between the cracks, but this was like walking through
Paris with a giraffe.
Upstairs in the Sainte Chapelle a tour of German tourists
pressed against them as they all craned to see the famous painted
ceiling of the diminutive cathedral. There was no advantage to being
short here, they were all a head or two taller than Penny. Around her
the men's shutters clicked at their wives, making sure to get a shot of
Maia in there somewhere. To them this glass gem of a cathedral was
merely a backdrop for a prurient souvenir to sneak back home to
Dusseldorf. The pigskin aroma of the Germans' new coats filled the air,
what air there was. Dizzy and a little nauseous amidst all the choppy
chatter, Penny zoomed in on the universe of gold stars that protruded
from the lapis ceiling above her head.
Downstairs in the gift shop Maia bought a large transparency of
the windows. "I know the perfect place for this!" she giggled. "Tell me,
Penny, are you Catholic?"
"I'm nothing, you?"
"Oh, I am spiritual, I believe in Love, always, forever. I never
find it, though, hah!"
54