anarchy in orleans

We walk past a cathedral, huge stone spires, gargoyles leering out of the facade, a roofless tower rimmed by columns and exposed the elements. People walk by not once looking up, it is amazing what you can get used to, I think as I watch them. We enter a bookstore in the no car district of orleanes. Books of marxist theory, feminism, and politics line up on the wood shelves. It reminds me of bookstores back home, only this bookstore also has a bar. “We are anarchists” the bartender explains. Folks young and old fill the store, necks wrapped in scarves, holding cigarettes with fingerless gloved hands. They spill out into the street outside, a tiny social bubble in the midst of a gentrified shopping center.