So I definitely had a post on Proust planned for my evening's activity, but it appears that the internet in my hostel is down and I only have about 4 minutes left on my card at this now very crowded hole-in-the wall internet cafe where I can't locate punctuation for the life of me. (I think most of my time has gone to locating the apostrophe...) Suffice it to say for the mo that Proust and Paris are both mindblowing, but it will take more than my now two remaining minutes to explain why...
Love and eager anticipation to hear how your (reading) lives have been this summer--
Yours,
Irene
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