In The Back Streets Of France: Prologue

Prologue:

Somewhere in France, a wet, cold, gray mist rolled in. It was so thick that none of the people from the town could see more than 2 feet in front of them. They knew that rarely would it be sunny during this time of year. Though the sea was hundreds of miles away from this town of 5,000 residents, the foggy mist still managed to get to them. On a fairly good and sunny day, they would be able to look down from the highest meadow and see rolling hills as far as the eye could see. This was what was so attractive to all the tourists. Painters came from far and wide to paint the hills at sun rise or sun set as that was when the hills were at their most attractiveness. The reds and yellows mixed with the greens and shadows to create the once in a life time view.

When the foggy mist came creeping to their town, the only thing that told them it was time to get up was their bed-side alarms. On a sunny day, the rays of warm and welcoming sunlight would shimmer to their pillows and they would wake.

The town thrived on the sunlight and they were never very happy when it wasn’t the sun that woke them. On a rainy day like this, everyone from the richest of the rich to the poorest of the poor was in a sad if not a bad mood. It was no fun. There was only one place where rain or shine, it was always happy.