Rue des Pyrénées - Rubbing their eyes more vigorously than usual, Parisians woke to hazy blue skies this morning. With temperatures topping nearly 60 F°, pundits are not yet predicting floofy skirts or muscle shirts, but they will, especially if conditions improve on Thursday, as some experts now say. However, high-tax welfare-state policies ensure that no spontaneous day off from drudgery can be called.
Citing possible areas of concern, sources said some suburban and rural trains might be late. Spokespersons for many groups said that work stoppages by the radically entitled and morally bankrupt will continue as usual.
Parisians, however, continue to be Parisians. Anna gets three baguettes at retail from Nour, a Muslim bakeress and harried mother of two, or perhaps more, children, before she opens the café next door. Up before 9 o’clock almost four days a week, Anna is typical of poorly-paid, overworked people here in this poor immigrant neighborhood in Northeast Paris.
“Salue,” (Hi) she says this morning, shrugging Gallicly when told by this reporter of the authorities’s unpopular decisions and the ineffable iniquity of her neighbors.
“Putain,” (fuckaduck) office employee Myriam exclaims when this reporter points to the sun bathing the carefully-tended flowers in the little park that serves the low-income housing project and, along with it, its many non-European immigrant tenants, “It can’t last. They say storms for this afternoon.”
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