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He saw her across the room through smoky curls of incense. An infinite moment, like inky letters floating from the pages of Proust. There was a glance. The blink of a Godardian eyelash. Her scent of skin and suede. The spark of a lemon drop cocktail. He followed her through a labyrinth of skinny stairwells, Parisian tongues and art deco jade. Sconces of amber flames crackled to the sound of spilled champagne until he reached her. His hand followed the seam of black nylons, pressed against red walls, and rolled into leather banquettes. They melted into each other like Dali clocks. And burned, burned, burned like Kerouac poetry, exploding like spiders across the stars.

Chez Castel, a full sensory experience: Feel the vibrations of the Paris dance floor come to life.

CHEZ CASTEL — AS TOLD BY OUR DISCOTHÈQUE DJS.