The Shadowdance

I n Paris, the City of Light, the best parties happen after dark … but the very best parties happen after death.We’re all dressed in our finest — the women in long gowns that still whisper gently when we walk, and the men in high-waisted trousers with cuffs.I wear a corsage. It’s just a sprig of flowering gourdon that I picked up in the Parc Monceau.That was the Sunday that I died.I was walking to the Moulin de la Galette, as usual, for an afternoon with friends.My sister, as usual, was annoyed