A slow pirogue kind of day

In Current reading, Drafts, En français dans le texte, proto drafts on May 8, 2014 at 6:59 am

Oddness. The day starts off with a breaking dawn in a glorious sky. Now, fog and mist slide down from the surrounding hills. The kind of fog we see here in the fall.

Out of sync. I’ve lived in this country for several years now, but I wasn’t raised here. I don’t have the acquired reflex for set days where everything shuts down – this being one of them. The Allies’ victory against Nazi-controlled Germany. Last week, we had the Workers Day on May 1st. On Easter Monday, I showed up at the local junior college, and wondered why the gate was closed. etc.

The boy showed up for the workshop yesterday. Intends to come back tomorrow. Most of the children with whom I deal these days wouldn’t be able to tell me how they want their comic book laid out, nor could they instruct me on the plot, the quotes, the narrative. He’s a serious-looking boy who likes a joke. A fortune I won’t make, spending two hours with one kid. If I were in it for the money, I wouldn’t be here, although I wouldn’t mind a few extra sesterces, here and there. (Sesterces? In his storyline, the boy requested I add some to the dollars and euros the Dictator wanted all for himself.)

Stacks of books. Scribbles on bits of paper. French bits, English ones. Who’s who in the fictional worlds to my left, to my right, over my head and down below.

Sun breaking through again. Oddness.


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