The Blue Lotus is quiet this summer, and I miss the familiar faces of my friends. I arrived earlier this summer, and have established myself again working at the Antiquarian society, researching an ancient ostracon, trying to interpret the words and names engraved on it to link them to another piece that is rumored to have been around the same period. Two weeks, and no luck yet.

My mind drifts often to over a year ago, my first summer away from home, the summer of excitment, all of us were here: the Temple of Hathor, the music, the fancy parties, VonKramer, the gardens at night, flying through a monsoon, and of course, the Eye of Ra. I often think of that summer with fondness- reading through past journal entries and small momentos saved from many of its occasions.

And then, one day, as I arrived back to the hotel, I discover that I have a letter waiting from Paris.

"Thank you," I tell the receptionist, looking at the handwriting with curiosity. When I return to my room and open it, I smile. It is from Omar, my friend from that summer long ago, writing that he is in Paris. He writes that I could consider going to Paris, working as a translator there. I am very happy with this news, the possibility of new adventure. While I love Cairo, I decide instantly that I should go, and that the work I would do in Paris could be more important than my work here. I immediately write my reply to Omar, hoping that he will receive it in time, and then I speak with the receptionist, making plans.

Paris- a whole new adventure!