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Chateau
It was the middle of the day when we arrived in Paris, and I was exhausted. My internal clock was all thrown off. Even though I’d taken a really long nap on the plane, as I walked through the airport with my backpack carry on slung over my shoulder, I felt like I was walking in sand. The idea of turning myself into something small enough to ride in Sam’s pocket.
He had my hand as we went to the baggage claim. We had a lot of luggage but not as many as we would have if we hadn’t planned on my ability to make new clothes or for us to buy them. I didn’t know how we would look in French fashions, but the idea of Sam wearing some of the clothes I saw on the French men we saw walking around the airport almost made me laugh. Not that all of them were dressed way different than Americans, but some of the more fashionable ones wore tight pants, or pants that were baggy at the top and tight a
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