The Feast
A momentous event was about to occur.
Monseigneur was about to have his daily cake.
His first servant, beautifully dressed in a blue coat, set the table with a fine white cloth.
His second servant, smiling at the fantasy that he was rendering his lord a great service, poured wine into his golden goblet.
His third servant, the oldest, silent and calm, placed the pastry before him.
And he thought to himself as he munched on his treat, as violins played and the guests laughed, and carriages drove by, "What a splendid day to be living!"
A momentous event was about to occur.
Jacques was about to have his monthly bread.
His wife, beautifully dressed in a blue rag, set the table with a tattered brown sheet.
His daughter, smiling at the fantasy that tomorrow she would be married to a prince and taken away, poured water into his wooden cup.
His son, the youngest, loud and upset, placed the crust before him.
And he thought to himself as he munched on his treat, as crowds shouted and the prisoners screamed, and tumbrils drove by, "What a splendid day to be living!"
