Paris, I'm thinking of you

Story highlights

  • Laurie Segall: I know that the streets we loved, the pockets we explored are aching with this tragedy
  • Terror makes no exceptions; as you pick up the pieces, I hope you know we are thinking of you

Laurie Segall is a technology correspondent for CNNMoney, covering Innovation and Entrepreneurship. This essay was previously published on Medium and Facebook.

(CNN)To you, in Paris.

I wonder if you are still there.
A month ago, I met you in a tiny store draped with scarfs off a cobblestone street in Paris.
    Laurie Segall
    Blue and pink skies framed the Parisian streets, twinkling at dusk. People sat outside at cafes. I tried on a long scarf in your shop. You promised it looked alright on me, even though I'm an American and told you I had no idea how to drape a scarf in true French fashion. You laughed.
    Days before, another one of you served me coffee and kindly said nothing as I scrambled for change. I was unsure what currency I was handing you. I was just off the plane. You were patient.
    And then there was you, the man who juggled on the streets early in the morning. I was riding in a taxi from the airport. There you were. In the middle of traffic, you burst into the street and juggled pins in the air  --  three, maybe four of them. No one honked or asked you to leave. We all smiled, laughed. It was 8 a.m. You were a delight.
    Later, I sat in the cafe where you were a waiter. You advised me on what to eat. I couldn't read the menu. You were so lovely. You gave me recommendations and told me where to roam and get lost. You smiled because I was curious and you were kind.
    I don't know whether you guys are alright. If you were dining in one of those cafes or catching that show on a fateful night a month later. I never connected with any of you on social media. We didn't exchange numbers. Just pleasantries.
    But I left Paris fueled by your kindness, and now I sit in the States wondering whether all of you are still there. If any of you guys have lost your friends. If your friend of a friend walked out the door on a beautiful evening and never came home because of terror. Because of evil.
    I hope every single one of you is alright. I know that the streets we loved, the pockets we explored are aching with this tragedy. As a reporter, my inbox is filled with names and pictures of people who lost their lives in this brutal attack. It could've been any of us. Terror makes no exceptions.
    As you pick up the pieces, I hope you know we are thinking of you. I hope one day to return to those streets, to see you juggling, to buy a scarf I can't drape and to laugh with you at my inability to translate your menu. I hope to see you all again.