The French connection

So there I was, staying with friends at their home in Burgundy. Immersed in enchanting countryside, warmed by the summer sun and seduced by the language, I had no choice but to surrender. I didn’t go to France to find myself, but I did come back wanting to find someone else.

One evening, sitting around the camp fire, mesmerised by the heat and the light of the flames, my thoughts turned to love. It was easy to fall. Gentle wind chimes soothed my soul. A warm breeze teased my bare skin. The sky was starry, and I’m a romantic. Nature had bought the orchestra – sadly, being a single girl, I didn’t have a conductor to bring it all together.

I love my life and my own space, but that night, and under those stars, I would have given my right arm to have been kissed. Sacrifice a limb for love? Melodramatic? Moi? Of course. Practical? Yes. I’m left-handed.