City of Blinding Lights

Caleb Turman was lost.

In the biggest sense of the word.

He had refused the offer of a Paris City Map from the tourist office, not wanting to look so obviously like a clueless American, and wanting to impress the pretty French girl who was behind the counter with his apparent knowledge of the intricate city maze that is Paris.

However he displayed his lack of knowledge about the French cosmopolitan city only fifteen minutes later when he was stood somewhere in the middle of Paris looking very American, very lost and whishing that he had just taken the stupid map in the first place. He didn't care that he was in the most beautiful city in Europe, or that he was at present being checked out by a group of giggling French girls. He just wanted to be, well, not lost.

Muttering angrily to himself Caleb walked straight ahead, not really caring where he was going, he was only going to get more lost anyway. He meandered down the narrow café lined streets, in which people sat chatting and drinking coffee, he walked past boulangeries where the smell of freshly baked baguette streamed through the open doors and he walked past shops that had wine bottles arranged up to the ceiling.

Masses of people walked past him, all with a confidant stride to their step, as they knew where they were going. Unlike Caleb who had no idea where the hell he was, on top of that he spoke no word of French. Despite this, his male instinct of following any pretty girl with his eyes, did not waver when a tall and willowy French girl streamed past Caleb, who turned his head to carry on watching her strut down the street

His view however was cut short when he was hit in the stomach with sufficient force to make him double over and cause an exclamation of shock to arise from the mouth of the culprit.

He turned his head and looked down at the person who had caused the bodily harm.

His eyes were met with the sight of a tiny and yet striking girl with ash blonde hair, who was carrying three one meter rolls of fabric in bright colours of pink yellow and green in her arms, one of these being the weapon of accidental attack. She was wearing a red strap dress and on here feet a pair of gladiator sandals that had been the must have of Vogue magazine in the summer edition.

"I am so sorry!" The young girl squawked, feeling very embarrassed by the situation.

"No it's ok I think I'll live," Caleb said with a smile rubbing the sore spot on his stomach where the bright green fabric roll had smacked him. His suffering however was of short term when he realized something.

"You speak English!" Caleb exclaimed with relief.

"Apparently I do," the girl said with a smile up to him, shifting the weight of her fabric rolls in her arms. "You're American right?"

"How do you know?" Caleb asked genuinely astounded.

"Well no offence but you don't look very French," the girl said gesturing with her hands at the shock of orange hair of Caleb's and his outfit which consisted of skinny jeans a Glamour Kills t-shirt and a pair of bright Nike high tops. "Plus you look lost. Most Americans here look lost. I should know, I ran around this city with the same expression as you've got on now, for about a week."

It was only then that Caleb picked up on the familiar hometown accent and slotted two and two together. It came as a relief to him that he was no longer lost in translation, and he was praying to God that the girl knew French, or at least directions.

"You're American too?" Caleb asked with excitement at finding another like him.

The girl nodded, causing her hair to move with her motions and catch the bright sunlight, causing her hair to shine even more.

"A Dallas girl through and through." She said with a small smile.

Caleb's eyes widened.

"No way! I come from there too!"

"Looks like we have some common ground then. So where do you need to go?" The girl asked shifting the conversation quickly to the more pressing matter, which was Caleb's return home, not wanting to dwell on the topic of hometown origins.

"I don't really know," Caleb admitted sheepishly, scratching his head. "I said I'd meet my friends again near that big church where apparently Quasimodo lived."

The girl with the blonde hair blinked twice and then burst into peals of laughter, to the surprise of the taken aback Caleb who had really had enough for today.

"Oh right well I'll take you to Notre Dame," the girl said having to bite her lip to stop more giggles escaping. "You're quite a walk away through, you're in Saint-Germain right now. But then again you could be worse. Let's go."

The girl confidently strode forward, moving through the human masses with skilful movements that can only be obtained by practice and every day routine. At some points Caleb almost lost sight of her in the thick accumulation of people. However the red dress served as a spot marker and soon he was walking beside the girl and offering to carry her fabric rolls.

She shook her head and declared that she could manage but after serious persuasion, she only ended up with one roll of bright expensive cloth, Caleb having taken on the bulk of the load.

Conversation during their walk was kept light and informal, topics ranged shortly from the masses of people to the strange shops that were either side of them.

After having walked through a side street for some considerable time, the American pair was suddenly out in the open in a squared with high greens trees, splashing fountain and a busy main road that was situated along the river. Standing next to the fountain the girl pointed across the road.

"You have to cross the road and then you'll be walking along the river Seine. You'll see Notre Dame from there. Carry on walking straight till the traffic lights and then cross the bridge. You'll make it to the square in front of Notre Dame in three minutes after that."

The girl smiled and stretched her arms out asking for her rolls of fabric back. Caleb happily obliged and returned them back to their rightful owner.

"Thanks very much…." Caleb faltered realizing that he did not even know the girl's name.

"Audrey. My name is Audrey." The girl with a name now said with a smile on her face.

"I'm Caleb by the way," he had felt the need to leave her with a name and couldn't help but hope that he would see her again. "Thanks for all your help."

Audrey shook her head with the same smile, showing that it was not a big problem in the least.

"Will we see each other again?" Caleb asked, caring little whether he embarrassed himself.

"Probably not, Paris is big. Take care and get a map Caleb," Audrey said with a smile and collecting her fabric together she shoot him one last smile, before walking to the Metro station on the other side of the square.

Caleb stood still and watched her go, thinking that it was just so typical for him to get hooked on the girls who would walk in and out of his life in just under half an hour and still leave him with the bruises to prove that it actually happened.

Once Audrey had disappeared down the steps of the metropolitan in a flurry of red, Caleb crossed the road and followed the instructions given to him, all the while muttering under his breath and making a mental note to buy a map the next day.