Paris was barely waking up. CT11 walked aimlessly, guided by that particular silence of mornings when the city begins to breathe again. At the corner of a Haussmannian facade, a vibration: the honey from the glass roofs opposite settled on the pale stone, as if two eras responded to each other in the blink of an eye. A step back, then a half-step to the left. The lines tense, the curve of the rotunda embraces the grid of windows. CT11 raises the camera, looks for the junction where everything balances, that moment when perspective stops time. The framing locks, the light is just right, a trigger . Here is the angle found, its tranquil colors and this conversation of architectures immortalized . A page of Paris, discreet and precise, to be reread every day on the wall.