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

29 November 2007


- She isn't here, Elle said as she sat again in the car next to Tiss, I left a message... I'll come round another day.

As he started the car he said he'd prefer people did not know they were together. Elle's friend she was to meet was his former boss's wife with whom he had had a row about some bamboo to cut.

They drove to Kaikohe where he had planned to do some shopping that morning. He had planned to do his laundry at the laundromat and to buy a sweat shirt. They walked around a few shops touching everything and buying nothing. Just to check prices, just for fun. The fun to act as a couple going shopping into town. As if... they weren't alone anymore. He took ages to choose a sweat shirt, asking Elle what she thought about it, if it was the right size, the right price. Then he left her at the laundromat while he fetched some special paint for his car. They ended up in a café where, after some negotiations, he managed to be served a German styled coffee with cream, and where he offered a patisserie to his wife. Well, to Elle. The game was intoxicating.

Before driving back to Kerikeri, Tiss wanted to stop at a farm where there was a job offer to milk the cows. While they were waiting for the herd that could be seen in the distance followed by the farmer on his 'quad', he sat on his car's bonnet and rolled himself a cigarette. They were already making a happy couple's plans, the husband coming home all dirty to a sweet smelling cottage. After a short talk it was clear that the farmer had already found someone. Farewell the dream!


Dieta said...

Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-). I will add in my blogroll =). If possible gives a last there on my blog, it is about the Dieta, I hope you enjoy. The address is http://dieta-brasil.blogspot.com. A hug.

Frankie said...

Thanks for your comment. What do you find likeable in this particular post? I hope you will like the next one too.
I can't read Portugese, sorry. You must be bilingual.

About Me


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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