<![CDATA[Thou shalt write, eve - Blog]]>Tue, 29 Dec 2015 02:53:13 -0800Weebly<![CDATA[Chez Vivienne]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:26:00 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/chez-vivienne"Thé froid…Thé froid aux fraises…"

"Brrr, even the idea of a cold drink gives me chills."

"Chocolat chaud."

"If only my toothache was not so bad. Appointment! Right! Where is my planner? Here you are, I almost forgot about it! Well, not almost, I actually did. I have been so absent minded lately. Dr.Renard would have me killed if I missed it again!"

"Dàccord, 12:30 Tuesday, rue Faubourg St. Honoré 34."


"Where was I…"

"Café Latte…No, it always turns my stomach, too much milk."

"Cappuccino…Yes, that is the one!"

"Shall I take a dessert to go with it? That flipping tooth of mine…Ha! It almost got me. No, there is no way I can refuse a tartelette au citron because of some bloody tooth."


"Oui, un cappuccino et tartelette au citron, s'il vous plait."

"Dàccord, c'est tout?"

"Oui, merci."

The fake smile of a mid-aged waiter and the miserable weather does not help with the mood at all. It is fascinating how blue one can feel in such a beautiful city. I still am not considered Parisian here. I probably never will be. You constantly get the annoyed look, as if you have done something wrong or you do not belong here. No matter how you act or speak, you will always be a foreigner here. Well, I could respond the same way, squeeze in a fake smile and adopt that "I do not care about you too" look. I suppose, life would be easier than just trying to please everyone and trying to be nice and all.

"Cappuccino, mademoiselle," -he flopped my coffee on the table, some of it spilled out and wet my heart-shaped ginger cookie, which currently was the only romantic thing about Paris to me. Now it is is ruined too. 

"Merci," -I murmured.

No glass of water avec my coffee, huh? Sure, I forgot I am a foreigner. Only the real Parisians deserve to wash coffee down their throats. Oh well, what are you going to do about that.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur, ou est ma tartelette?"

"Une minute," -the waiter went away.

"S'il vous plait, mademoiselle!"

"Merci beaucoup."

Ugh, he even forgot my dessert, the most joyous part of my day. I shall not return to this café ever again. What was it? Chez Vivienne? Come chez my home and I will make you a cappuccino with the foamiest of foams, with two ginger hearts and a tall glass of water. I can bake too. I do need some practice to perfect my tartelettes, not going to lie, but I am almost there. What a waste of money, those Parisian cafés.

 …rie de rien…non, je ne regrette rien…

Piaf! Oui…très traies oui…my ers are in heaven! This café just got ten times better. I may come here just for the music, if they will keep playing Piaf. Her music brings me to Paris I want to be in. It lifts you and flops you right in the heart of the 60's in Paris, the period of Les Trente Glorieuses, the three glorious decades and the time when Piaf's music was at its peek. I am sure it was magical. Not that Paris is not magical today, it is just…different.

Mmmm, that sour lemony taste and the crisp beautiful pastry case, mastered to perfection by the French pattisiers. Wonder if I am the only one who scrapes off the smooth citrusy filling before eating the rest of the pastry. I know, I cannot be the only one. It is time I go, or else I will miss my French classes.

"L'addition, s'il vous plait," -I called the waiter.

He was chatting away and laughing at some French jokes they would make about tourists with other waiters, some bursting in tears, holding their stomachs, trying to control their fits of laughter. He looked at me, then at his colleagues, they laughed again and he came to me with an air of slight annoyance around him. 

"Autre chose?" -he asked out of politeness.

"Non, merci. L'addition, s'il vous plait."

He plopped a metal cup with a check in it right in front of me. I took it and looked at the price. Ten euros, the price of a single French lesson I am taking. I hesitantly took a ten euro bill out of my scruffy-edged leather wallet and put it into the cup. 

"Merci," -he walked away with it. 

And here I go again, paying for something I could have easily made myself before leaving home this morning. I would not have my mood ruined by the questionable service, as well. Next time, I know I will be keeping those euros for an additional French lesson, maybe I will be treated like a real Parisian, once I speak it properly. If that does not work out, I will get myself a new wallet.

The rain had started as she walked out of Chez Vivienne, jumping over the water puddles, leaving the café, filled with Parisians, smoking cigarettes and chattering away cozily sat in two around tiny little tables, cluttered with cups of coffee, bottles of Perrier and tiny ashtrays. Waiters with white shirts and black aprons were also enjoying a smoke under a shelter, observing the passers-by and that was the life at Chez Vivienne

<![CDATA[Leah and Aragon]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:24:22 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/leah-and-aragon"I can't stand it anymore…"

"Off you go! I said off you go!!! Stupid horse."

It is time I quit it, these horse riding lessons will drive me mad. Every time I come here, they assign me this stupid horse. It is impossible to work with it. Why all the other kids get to chose. I always have to be the outcast, who has to deal with whatever comes. Why not Lara or Amigo, or even Lothario, for God's sake. These horses are way more well-behaved. I do not think they would miss me here, neither would the horse. Aragon. Pfft, what's with that name, anyways? Stupid horse, stupid name. Sounds like a movie. What was it? Armagedon? Same thing, add or take a few letters.

"Here, take it. Brown sugar, huh? It is the only time you are nice to me. I bet you will miss me only for those sugar cubes you seem to love so much. I never wish to come here again."

"What is it, why are you starring at me like that? Bet you, you will throw one of those fits at me again. No..? Ahhh, decided to be nice for once. Alright."

The horse, black as the night kept on looking at the girl with its sad eyes, blacker than its mane. Aragon slowly pressed his muzzle into her palm and gently took the sugar cube into his mouth. The touch was so soft and warm, it seemed as if he was kissing her palm. 

"Hey! You are tickling me! You beast of a creature, who knew you can be this soft…"

"One more? Here you go, munch on it while you can."

Aragon took another cube into his mouth and looked the girl in the eyes again. The gaze was so sad, her anger seemed to have passed. 

"It's alright. You will be fine without me, there are tons of kids who come to ride horses anyways. You will find someone who will love you and whom you will enjoy having on your back. Don't you worry, silly thing. Don't look at me with those sad eyes of yours, we both know you never liked me to begin with."

"Remember the day I first came here and found out that you will be the horse I will have to ride on? I thought you were the most beautiful of them all with your jet black shinning fur and the fascinating long mane, the grace you have puts the rest of these horses here to shame. You know that and that is where your arrogance comes from. When I first came close to you, you snorted at me and turned away. I knew you will be trouble and boy, was I right."

"The way you look at me now is the way I looked at you the very first time. I was ready to give all my love to you. You never cared and always tried to get me off your back, always messed up, so that I would get shouted at by the trainer. I have had enough now, I will be the arrogant one. I still love you, hence the sugar, but I just cannot work with you, you do not want to be trained, you untamable beast."

"Why would you do it to me? I was always gentle with you…"

She stood in silence, resting her elbow on the loose box. The stable was quiet. Aragon was calm, he looked down and closed his eyes hoping that she would stroke his forehead. She put away her helmet and leaned closer. The girl gently stroked his mane. It seemed as if it was the only moment when she felt a connection between them. Aragon did not make a sound, he came closer and pressed his head to her chest. 

"What is it big boy? I cannot recognize you anymore. Look at you, all soft and gentle."

"Here…I love you, you know that."

Aragon snorted again, however, for the first time it seemed that he was happy and had something to say. 

"Let's go for a last walk. Wait...I have not showered you, have I? Come here."

She opened his loose box, put his halter on and attached the lead rope to it. They headed to the shower, where she attached the ropes so that Aragon would stay still. He hated very cold water and would always start jumping around just at the sight of the water pipe. She learned it the hard way. Now she takes the pipe and lets him inspect it, as she slowly lets the water run. When he is sure that it is not too cold, Aragon enjoys these showers like a little boy. He closes his eyes and lets her brush his fur, which feels like a little massage after a tiring riding session. He learned to be very well-behaved in the showers, it is the only time she can have peace with him. 


He held his foot up, so that she could get the dirt out of the hooves.

"Up! Come on…Good boy!"

When she was done showering and grooming this arrogant raven of a horse, she started applying hoof salve. When the brush touched his left foot, he groaned.

"What is it? Come on, for once, be nice to me. I am just applying some salve…big boy, I have done it a thousand times already, be patient, I am almost done."

Aragon groaned again, started stamping his front feet and swished his tail. He moved his left foot so that she would not touch it. 

"Alright, you do not seem happy. Does it hurt? Let me see…Shush, it is fine."

"Shush, Aragon! Up! I have to see it, otherwise I cannot tell what is wrong with you."

He raised his foot reluctantly and kept on groaning, the tail started swishing even faster. 

"Goodness! You poor little thing, why did no one tell me? I did not notice it either. You have got a serious infection on this little hoof of yours."

"I must tell it to the trainer!

"If only did I know your suffering, I would not have been so angry on you."

"I am sorry, Aragon…I truly am. I cannot imagine what pain you must be in but don't you worry boy, I will make sure it heals quickly. I will take care of you. I cannot leave you now. Not now…"

"Here, come. Let's get you back to your comfortable hay bed. I will fetch some medications and inform the staff about your infection."

When they returned to his loose box, she turned back to close the doors but Aragon blocked her way with his massive body. He then swung his head in a motion indicating that she should stay. 

"Ok, I got it, you want me to stay here a little longer."

He laid down and put his head on golden hay. Leah sat down next to him and started stroking him slowly. It seemed to her that he enjoyed every second spent with her, yet she wondered why he became such a softy all of a sudden. 

"It is getting late, boy, I should be going home…"

He felt her intention and let out a sound filled with sadness. 

"Alright, I will stay here with you tonight…"

She rested her head on his neck, the stable got dark and quiet, everybody left. Nobody knew the girl was still there with the horse. His breathing was deep and calming, it put her in such a blissful state. She was wondering why he did not let her go. Horses are very emotional creatures, able to back up your emotions. The anger Leah had towards Aragon when failing at riding was the reason he was misbehaved and slightly aggressive. It is only now that she started to realize that. 

"He was surprisingly sweet today, it must be due to my concern for his own health. Could it be that he sensed something? Did he want me to stay just so that he would feel happier and less lonely or was it because he knew more than I did?" -she kept questioning herself until she fell asleep. 

Aragon was one of the older horses, he was kept in a smaller stable a little further from the big main stable, where all of the younger healthy horses and staff were based. All of the equipment, a tiny equestrian shop, the changing room and the food, everything was kept there. A couple of older or injured horses stayed in the stable a few hundred meters away, tucked in the shadow between old oak trees and a little pond. At night, around 10 p.m. the guard would make sure that all of the horses are in their loose boxes and the stable is ready to be locked for the night. He used to forget to check the smaller stable thus, it often was left open through the night. 

The guard was an old gray haired man, who always wore his houndstooth hat and had a cigarette in his teeth. He was not the nicest of people, it seemed that everyone and everything bothered him. He would spit on the floor and curse away. Nobody understood his mumbling, it seemed as if he was always talking to himself. He was lame, thus you could always tell him walking from a far. Cigarette butts were left all around the stable. It was a habit of him to just throw them anywhere he wished. He was not the neatest, as well. 

The stable was locked and the smaller one with Aragon and Leah in it, forgotten again. It was nearing the midnight and the night was windy. Suddenly, the girl was awaken by the loudest of squeals, the horses in the main stable were going mad, squeals were accompanied by uproarious knocks and smashes. She ran outside immediately to see what is happening and saw the stable bursting into flames. Leah was overcome by stress and fear as she ran closer, trying to open the doors of the stable. It was locked and she could not do anything. Breathless, she ran back to where she left Aragon to find her phone in her rucksack but she saw the guard, out of breath, with a dangling set of keys running towards the stable. He lived in a little brick house only a few hundred meters away, therefore, he heard all of the noises outside. 

"Kid! Call someone!! Quick, we have to save the horses!!"

"O-kk-k!" -she stuttered. 

Leah flipped her rucksack upside down to quickly find her phone and called the fire station.

"Fire! The stable! It's burning! Someone, please come, help us! We need help!!"

"Girl, calm down please, be slow and clear. We need the exact address of the place, fire brigade will be there right away!" -a man with a raspy voice answered her. 

Leah lead all of the horse out of the smaller stable, in case it caught the fire too. Hay burns so fast, everything could be gone in a matter of minutes, if not the fire brigade, which arrived right away and neighboring village people, who came down running with buckets full of sand and water. Leah took on leash all four of the horses and walked away to a safer spot, while people were trying to stop the fire, some of them running out of the flaming stable with terrified moaning horses. 

She looked up at Aragon's eyes and whispered:

"You knew it, didn't you? You saved my life, Aragon. If you only let me go, I would have gone to the changing room in the main stable to change before leaving. The guard, thinking nobody's there, would have locked me for the night. Nobody but horses were in the stable at such hour. I cannot even imagine what a great danger you saved me from."

A tear fell down her cheek slowly as she realized how lucky she was to have known Aragon.
<![CDATA[Versailles]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:11:44 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/versaillesThe grandeur of Versailles,
With gardens so olde,
King's footsteps it seems,
Imprinted it holds.

The gold and the silver,
The softness of velvet,
All drenching with wealth
What doth its walls
One might tell?

Were happy the servants
Or people Francaise?

Behind the gold gates,
Scruffy rats runneth astray.

<![CDATA[To know not]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:11:15 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/to-know-notTo know not
Why the skies are endless,
To know not
Why some efforts are fruitless,
Why the meadows are green and 
The silent are meek.
To wonder and yet
To not know
The ways of creation
Is the greatest of blessings 
And the grandest frustration.]]>
<![CDATA[Sing me a song]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:10:29 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/sing-me-a-songSing me a song
And fill me with joy,
Sing me a song
And I will make you rejoice.

Don't say it's not your forte 
Or poise you don't have,
Try just one time
Take your last chance.

Sign me a song
And I'll dance c'est soiree,
Sing me a song, 
Make me feel faraway.
<![CDATA[Purple chalk flowers]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:09:57 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/purple-chalk-flowersWhy do we rush to grow up
To taste the wine of adulthood,
To be heard and understood
And tuck our childish games away.

Why do we rush to grow up
And lose naiveté 
The joy of life that's so pure
In exchange for conversations so cliche.

Why do we rush to grow up 
And indulge on champagne and liquor, 
When we could keep drawing
Purple chalk flowers 
And sprinkle them with glitter,
Rain will wash away
It all in due time anyway.

<![CDATA[Poppy]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:09:25 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/poppyA flower so graceful
And fragile all the same,
Redder than blood,
Might seem it's aflame

The winds are so harsh
To its crimson red petals,
Redder than blood
And so very special

Year after year
It blooms all again,
Fragile in frame
Yet brighter than the flame 
<![CDATA[Not meant to be]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:08:43 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/not-meant-to-beThose brown eyes of his
Filled with promises
All so very glitz,
This gentle touch of his

Puts my soul in such a bliss.
Yet foolish I must not be,
For heavens know,
We are not meant to be...
<![CDATA[Mother]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:08:15 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/motherThe sleepless nights 
She spent caring for you
And restless days,
She ran around looking after you,

Taught you to walk
And speak all the same,
Mother, of all gods,
Would do everything for her babe.
<![CDATA[The calmest bay]]>Mon, 14 Jul 2014 14:07:50 GMThttp://thoushaltwriteeve.weebly.com/blog/i-do-notI do not need the gold
Of a rich man,
Nor do I need the flatter
Or fame.
Nothing at all of such matter
Would steer my misery away
But only the touch of beloved one
Would sail my heart 
To the calmest bay.