I'm Vincent, 25, management student in Tours, crashing at my parents' in Epernay. Weekends mean the Champagne Express from Paris. First class private compartment. Plush leather seats hug my body,…
The train slices through the winter plain. Soft sconce light caresses bordeaux velvet banquettes and varnished woods. Thick moquette swallows footsteps. Air hums with wax and ancient oak, like forgotten…
Stunned, I pushed open the travel agency's glass door across from our old building. My green suitcase dragged behind, two wheels scraping. The agent, sleek in a tailored suit, eyed…