Chapitre 1
« Impossible n'est pas français! »
I glanced at the sea below me as the boat sliced through it. The gentle air glided around my face. The aroma of sea air... Ah, so serein! I took another sip of red imported wine. Sigh. Paris will always be my home and France, of course, would always be my homeland. Nothing can replace the smell of walking into a French boulangerie. The smell of fresh bread is so intoxicating...! But alas, travel is good for the mind. And a wider mind brings wider thoughts. I swirled the scarlet liquid in my glass gently. As if I was in thought. I was in thought. I finally reached 20 years of age. I had to consider what to do with my life. And nothing mattered more to me than art. The art of prose, that is. Writing was my life and I wanted to pursue in it. To be recognised as a man who could make words dance on a page!
So where could I head, I thought? The first place that came to mind was across la Manche. To the land of England. After the Regency, they literally owned Europe and if anything, my career could start there. Someone there must be looking for talent. Someone must be interested in my writings. The words I crafted to dance on my page.
"Oh Monsieur, would you like another glass of wine?"
I turned to the waiter on my right who had a pleasant smile and an elegant bottle in his hands. I smiled back at him.
"Ah, s'il vous plaît..." I replied, holding my now empty glass out.
After a good view of the blue ocean, I returned to my seat on the deck.
"Ah... The air is so refreshing..." I sighed. I grinned to myself after hearing my voice. I had a thick accent that could sweep any Parisienne off her feet. I wonder if the English women had similar tastes... I know the feeling of many soft hands. Soft hands that only touch me for one night and high voices I never have to hear again. It always has been like that for me. To me, women are like chocolates. One can be never enough. And that is what I stick by and always will.
The notebooks on the table next to me caught my eye. Those very notebooks are what hold my whole future. They're full of art that should be showcased for the public. I had seen what the English liked to read. They loved their amour... that was for sure. Many were in the form of poems, plays and much more; all about amour. Personally, I write tragedies... tragedies that I will never live. I smirked a little. Love is the greatest of tragedies, the tragedy I write the most. This is why I vow to never allow it no matter what. Only fools fall in love. Ha, and I'm no imbécile!
I watched the waiter saunter away to the next passenger. According to him, England was not far off now. England! I wonder what it's like... Is it as lively and stylish as Paris? Or maybe they're more content and liked their countryside... I have never left my homeland until now. In Paris, I was definitely recognised for my talent. It was then I realised I had to use my gift for something... or it would go to waste. Now I had to take my own life into my hands and I don't want to take the wrong path. Who would I turn to if I did?
"Oh..." It suddenly hit me. Who would I go to about my passion? Who could I trust? Who would trust a foreigner?
I shook my head. No, I must have a clear mind about this. Il faut casser le noyau pour avoir l'amande. You need to break the shell to have the almond, as they say. Determination was sure to get me somewhere. I took in a deep breath, beaming afterwards. The salty air felt warm against my stubbly chin. Echoes of seagulls floated in the sky. England was the right place for me. I can't give up now. After all, "impossible" isn't even French!
We soon docked on the coast of a small town, giving me the chance to quickly glance of the landscape before we disembark. A little more grey than beautiful Paris but nonetheless, breath taking. Straight away, I could feel the atmosphere difference which pumped my adrenaline more. As I strolled off the boat, the waiter on the deck was waving us adieu. I stopped and turned around to catch his eye. His caught mine and he smiled warmly as before.
"Ah, au revoir monsieur Bonnefoy! Bonne chance pour ton carrière!"
