These particular ones seen in Paris' ninth arrondissement, which often feels to me like Manhattan. Those odd, stray corners of midtown where time is the only thing to have stopped recently -- everyone else continues past, in a big damn hurry to get to the future. Where the sudden stateliness of an apartment building, on an otherwise unremarkable and sooty block, can stop you in your tracks.
Or stop me, anyway.
The "Van M" sign in particular is making me wonder if I shouldn't change my name.