A novel featuring a Chinese doll, a French woman and a flute

09 January 2007

21. Elle felt she had won

Elle felt she had won the animal's complete trust. And when Jim arrived with the van, they both very naturally walked towards the outside gate, the reins between them dragging low on the ground.

- "Get her back in the shed," he said surprised, "while I secure ropes from the van to the posts before opening the gate to prevent her to run away."

- "There's no need for it, she'll go into the van no problem," Elle said now surprised of so much caution.

- "Go and wait at the shed, I'm telling you."

Jim's precautions were useless. The mare walked into Elle's steps in great confidence. Right in the middle of the ramp, she stopped, in a flash of doubt.

- "Come on, old friend!" said Elle who was already inside the van, "it's comfortable in here, two more steps please!"

And the mare walked up into the van. Elle gave the reins back to Jim.

Late that night, when Elle was telling her story to Liyan, a strange emotion overcame her.

- "When they put her in a dirty paddock covered in mud, without a blade of grass or another horse in sight, she started neighing pathetically. It was for me, Liyan, as if to say: "You've cheated me, you've really cheated me". She had followed me in such great confidence, you know. She now found herself in that thing... and I was pretending not to know her."

Silence. Liyan felt sorry. Elle went on.

- "I remember reading in a novel once the vivid description of a horseman mastering his horse at a level crossing, as a train was coming through in a thundering noise of hell. The writer had compared the rider to a god who demanded the animal's obedience. A relationship of trust had to be established between them. The animal thus subdued outshone by far the easily frightened wild animal... And what if it was the kind of relationship God had with humans? Hey, Liyan?"

After a long silence, Elle had concluded:

- "God can certainly take us to a dirty paddock covered in mud and leave us there."

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Written by Frankie

Written by Frankie

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FOREWORD

This is not a novel really. It has no plot, no beginning and no end. It is a slice of life, the way it happened, portraying real people. A slice of life set with fantasy. This text is my own bad translation of what I wrote in French between 1996 and 1999.

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Copyrights 2006-2008 Frankie Perussault All rights reserved.

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