About Laura Hatt

"Pack light,” said Laura’s mom. “Mix and match neutrals,” said Laura’s roommate. “Just turn it inside out,” said Laura’s sixth grade camp friend. Grungy, obedient, and wary of checked luggage (still waiting on my BAG, Air Canada) Laura plans to spend the summer traveling southern France and embracing the multipurpose. Her gray tank top works for day and night. Her towel doubles as a pillow. Her jeans could probably be cut into jorts, should the need arise. She will not, however, be purchasing 2-in-1 shampoo & conditioner. That stuff is the worst.
11 07, 2016
  • Avignon_ChurchDowntown

My Cabbage, My Darling

A laugh rings out from the next room. “Oh, my darling,” the voice tinkles. “You say that to all your women.” My Darling chuckles. “Only to you and my wife, my cabbage.” I freeze and flick my eyes to the door. Scandal. French scandal. I knew this was going to be a good day. “Now, my darling, don’t mention her here,” My Cabbage reproaches. “This is our space. Our home.” Oops. Did [...]

29 06, 2016
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French Rejection Hurts the Same

WHOMP WHOMP whump WHOMP WHOMP. A muted but still thumpin’ bass line leaks through the concrete walls of the building ahead. I squint and consult my map. “That’s gotta be it,” I say, pointing. My companion smirk-smiles. “I dunno,” he says. WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP. “I think that might be the library.” I straighten my shoulders and hide my giant glasses in the pocket of my giant army jacket. WHOMP WHOMP. “No, this is [...]

24 06, 2016
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Silly Sausage

I walk in without a reservation. “Hi,” I say. “I don’t have a reservation.” The host gapes in shock, eyes wide, nostrils flared into perfect tiny O’s. “Vous…” he begins. “Vous…” “Yes,” I repeat, “I don’t have a reservation.” “Vous êtes… Americain?” he chokes out. Ah. “No, no, I’m Canadian,” I assure him. The room breathes a collective sigh of relief. “Oh! That’s fine,” he says. “Have a seat.” He points to an [...]

10 06, 2016
  • Lyon_ExteriorViewBasiliqueNotreDamedeFourviere

Nowhere to Go But Up(Hill)

When I first arrive in Lyon, I am young and full of hope. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the floodwaters are lapping but gently against the banks of the Rhone and the Saône. “This city is so peaceful,” I say without a hint of dramatic irony. “Black magic has no place here.” Across the Saône, shadows drift across the spires and turrets of a stony basilica. Beyond, [...]

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