April 30- last day

Dear April,

this is our last day: of the month for you, of my stay in my hometown for me.

I decided it was the moment to call the publishing houses I had submitted my novel to. The first two answered they were not interested in my way of writing. Since this was not very encouraging, I went to the old town to swallow it. I looked at the view of the city and the river, to get some inspiration.

Just behind me, two friends in their early twenties, were discussing relationships. Interactions, feelings, priorities, values… The girl wanted respect and a space for her to grow as a person. I was amazed how mature they were, I still had things to learn from them. If my 20-year-old self were there, he wouldn’t be able to follow.

At this point, Alexandre and his mother, my friend A, showed up out of the blue. This meeting contributed to chase away my blues. We all took a photo to commemorate our new haircuts, Alexandre’s and mine. Yes, I had a haircut in my hometown first thing this morning, don’t let Parisians know I prefered a hometown stylist, please!

After that, I decided to call up the other two publishing houses and ask if they had any news for me. They told me my novel is still in the evaluation process, I should get back to them in July. That was more hopeful.

There was a family dinner at my place, and then we watched an old black and white film. The main character, a 17-year-old girl, in love with a slightly older college professor, managed to get him interested in her. She knew what she wanted, and was acting in this direction. The film, produced in the early 1960’s showed a girl who also wanted to study. The professor was going to help her get accepted in the University.

My friend A also got the man she wanted. They might fight as the parents of two babies, but still, they are very close and complementary.

Each one has a quality, highly valued by the other.

 

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “April 30- last day

  1. Am I green with envy that you live in Paris. I’ve stayed there. A couple of months, sometimes three, but the longest is six. Six is the max on a tourist’s visa and I have family in California I can’t ignore. But, maybe, we need dreams and Paris is mine. The one I relive to renew my spirits.

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