A few months later, everything had totally settled. Life had gone back to
normal, except for me and him. We had met during this terrible turmoil, but
had not left each other since. I dare say that I had though that, once we
would be back in Paris, he would leave me. Forget me as well as this whole
story. But he didn't.
It was just after the February holidays, the air felt warmer, and smelled
of flowers, sun and summer. Everything was so great, that I was afraid
something would break it. Of course now I know it was stupid, but who
really knows until it has ended.
I know how I will end this story, just like any fool's story. With a
promise, a kiss and a they might live happily until they decide not to.
****
The air smells fresh, young, perfumed, and I am walking, hand in hand with the one I could call; my saver. Since that day, we haven't left each other. Everything seems perfect, the sweet summer coming up, our S baccalaurean being just passed, the summer hols starting, with great perspectives ahead.
I am seventeen, going on eighteen, and so is he. We will both have our birthdays in July. We stayed in Balzac during our Lycee, and will be doing the same studies next year. So we won't be separated. Our school friends didn't understand anything when we got together, not long in 3em after the trip. Of course, how could they. And we didn't tell them anything that happened there.
We were walking down the street, the sun shining overhead. We were going to the cinema, to meet our friends, and see the film with them. It is a very long time since we last saw the ones to whom I suppose we should be thankful to. A little river trickled in the street like an ocean in a storm.
I looked up, and meet his eyes; they were now bright, and as green as brown. He smiled, and took me by the shoulders, stopping in the middle of the street. He was taller than me, and it allowed me to huddle in his arms. We kissed delicately, like we had been doing since that first time on the boat, where I though I had died. He whispered in my ear that he would never forget me, and my dripping hairs on this first night. I couldn't believe anything could be as great as it was on this sunny day of June. We arrived near the cinema, and saw them. We both waved happily, and went to their reencounter....
**************************************************************************** *************************
Of course, you know that all this wasn't true, only the result of my imagination going wild. The beginning is true, but the rest fiction. We will see how this trip will really happen in about two months. But I dare say, that none of this will ever happen. Except maybe the part about Olivia and Didier. Ah no, I forgot that it has already happened. But it is not my fault if I have read many fairy talls where princesses find princes, and fall in love, and where the prince rescues his lady, and where they then marry and love each other for ever. I guess I have imagined myself as a princess, still waiting for my prince, but desperating for him ever to come to me.
**************************************************************************** *************************
What about if I told you everything has been changed again. Nothing is the same, and I am crying on my pillow like a pitiful creature should do. Ok, that isn't totally true. I am not in my bed, not in my house, and I have been dreaming to lay on a pillow for some time already. That would more be it, but I couldn't have you frightened too early. I am in an old house which could well be crumbling down on my head an moment. No! I am not, but this is were I would be writing this story. All this is happening some time before the trip. Remember that everything that has happened before, is but the future of the story I am telling you....
Emilie Maniglier
****
The air smells fresh, young, perfumed, and I am walking, hand in hand with the one I could call; my saver. Since that day, we haven't left each other. Everything seems perfect, the sweet summer coming up, our S baccalaurean being just passed, the summer hols starting, with great perspectives ahead.
I am seventeen, going on eighteen, and so is he. We will both have our birthdays in July. We stayed in Balzac during our Lycee, and will be doing the same studies next year. So we won't be separated. Our school friends didn't understand anything when we got together, not long in 3em after the trip. Of course, how could they. And we didn't tell them anything that happened there.
We were walking down the street, the sun shining overhead. We were going to the cinema, to meet our friends, and see the film with them. It is a very long time since we last saw the ones to whom I suppose we should be thankful to. A little river trickled in the street like an ocean in a storm.
I looked up, and meet his eyes; they were now bright, and as green as brown. He smiled, and took me by the shoulders, stopping in the middle of the street. He was taller than me, and it allowed me to huddle in his arms. We kissed delicately, like we had been doing since that first time on the boat, where I though I had died. He whispered in my ear that he would never forget me, and my dripping hairs on this first night. I couldn't believe anything could be as great as it was on this sunny day of June. We arrived near the cinema, and saw them. We both waved happily, and went to their reencounter....
**************************************************************************** *************************
Of course, you know that all this wasn't true, only the result of my imagination going wild. The beginning is true, but the rest fiction. We will see how this trip will really happen in about two months. But I dare say, that none of this will ever happen. Except maybe the part about Olivia and Didier. Ah no, I forgot that it has already happened. But it is not my fault if I have read many fairy talls where princesses find princes, and fall in love, and where the prince rescues his lady, and where they then marry and love each other for ever. I guess I have imagined myself as a princess, still waiting for my prince, but desperating for him ever to come to me.
**************************************************************************** *************************
What about if I told you everything has been changed again. Nothing is the same, and I am crying on my pillow like a pitiful creature should do. Ok, that isn't totally true. I am not in my bed, not in my house, and I have been dreaming to lay on a pillow for some time already. That would more be it, but I couldn't have you frightened too early. I am in an old house which could well be crumbling down on my head an moment. No! I am not, but this is were I would be writing this story. All this is happening some time before the trip. Remember that everything that has happened before, is but the future of the story I am telling you....
Emilie Maniglier