I dreamed of Paris last night. Not the cliché version — not postcards and cafes. A darker Paris. Midnight rain on stone streets, a red balcony, wet hair, a dress sticking to my skin. A man followed me but not in fear — in fascination. He didn’t touch. He watched. He waited. I turned, finally, and said, “If you want me, then earn me.” He smiled and disappeared into the rain. I woke up with mascara on my pillow, even though I wore none. Some dreams stain. 🌧️🌹🔥