Yesterday, I ran into a tall young girl on the ground floor of my apartment building. She had this incredible allure and wore what I thought was the prettiest vintage puff jacket that she could have found in a far-flung country where she might be from and I’ve never been to; a place where we could discuss some matters over grog mixed with a mysterious concoction of spices.
So I spoke to her in English, definitely a heady side effect caused by the recent changes made on my blog. Soon, you can call me Garance Van Damme, if tu vois what je mean.
With a dumbfounded look, she answered me back saying “Bonjour!” noticing that my french accent was sharp enough to cut Swiss cheese. I was red in the face.
In an attempt to hide my embarassment, I asked where her most exquisite and exotic blue jacket came from. She simply said, “Manoush.” (Which is a very frenchy, frenchy brand.)
Yes, my friends. The distant land happens to be right down my place. Anyway, as we exchanged numbers, I asked her how Marianne is spelled. And with a smile, she said, ” Like the national symbol of the France.”
The Marianne whom I just made friends with actually lives two buildings away from me. Cool, we’re neighbors.
Like they say, happiness is just around the corner.
Translation : Magali Eva Suárez