I am certain Dylan ears were more intent on picking up the finer points of one of the world's great organs than mine were. My ears were busy tripping flashes in my brain of sitting at funerals as a young boy, riding the carousel, and watching the Phantom of the Opera. Funny how music triggers dusty memories in our minds.
An hour passed, then the pipes fell silent. Dylan and I made the cold three minute walk back over the Seine to Shakespeare while taking in the view of Christmas coming to Paris.
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