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But here’s the kicker—world’s so messed up, like Cuarón’s dystopia, she’s got a kid stashed somewhere. “Gotta feed the little one,” she says, and I’m gut-punched. “There’s no goin’ back,” like the movie line, but damn, that hits differnt. I toss her extra cash, feelin’ all noble, thinkin’ I’m some hero in this broke-ass tale.

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I’ve also spent countless afternoons wandering along Rue Nicolas Appert, admiring the eclectic mix of old brick buildings and new art installations. That street, oh dear, how it stirs memories! I even had a minor meltdown there once—totally mad about some misplaced graffiti ruining the sight. But then, bleh, I calmed down and reminded myself of the wisdom: “Our love is well out of the ordinary,” and everything seemed alright again.

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