e c l e c t i c a
s p o t l i g h t a u t h o r
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The bistro's owner had hired a band to play and sing throughout the evening. The musicians were French but sang Eagles' songs in accented English, and every fourth number seemed to be "Hotel California." I sipped Muscadet and sang along with them even as the feeling of dread I had temporarily been able to ignore returned, as intense as ever.