Leaving the Champ de Mars, I crossed the bridge and looked back into the light, like quite few other photographers. The golden tones of the Right Bank (metro on the Bir-Hakeim bridge) still attracted me, and I went to meet Ann at the Trocadero, where a 17-year-old man had been murdered during the night by an SDF (sans domicile fixe) with a history of alcohol abuse.
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