Eloise Eloise isn’t affectionate. She sees things in their rightful space, taking up no more of the place that is intended or her to be displayed. She isn’t dismayed when she isn’t included in conversations. She answers questions directly without needing to know why the “yes” or “no” is required. I know her only from the time she goes to Paris. My memory is still in present tense. I love her so much, the way she whizzes around the boulevards, the black, white and pink of it. The pigeons, the poodles, the roundabouts, the Eiffel Tower, Toulouse-Lautrec and Moulin Rouge.…