Exquisite Corpse - Issue 3
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Paris: Gendarmerie
by Michael Andre

 

He's so timid he fears the morrow at dawn the day before tomorrow. This timid little bird peeps in French uncertainly.  So humble a creature can only perish. L'idée de chaque démarche l'éffrayait.

He scheduled disappointments. Those who regret are timid. It était en proie au remords.

Simone lives in a slum in Thionville in Lorraine. She has two sons by two men and never married. She's 60. They live in London; mes deux fils, she writes over and over on a page
in the phone book.

Her case has been bounced to Luxembourg from a court in San Francisco. She worked in San Francisco for the government of Luxembourg. She cannot afford to live in Luxembourg. She says she is a joint citizen of France and the United States. Poor old France is putting her up in Godawful Thionville near smug, tough Luxembourg.

Luxembourg has easy-to-get temporary artist visas. Girls flock there from the east to perform in cabarets. Then their managers keep their passports to insure repayment for transportation, hotels, clothes; and the girls are forced into prostitution. Simone, pursuing her case, leaves him in a square with ten cabarets.

The crazed polyglot whores pun in five languages. They call themselves the luxenpoor. English is big with whores and rubbies. Rubbies stagger in the same language everywhere. He thinks he can stagger with them.

And then Paris is Alert because of Terrorism. Soldats et flics patrol the train stations. (Bogie in Casablanca calls the French cops 'flicks.') Before dawn, thinking of Simone, he strolls into the Gare de Lyon: the usual mumbling homeless.

But a woman at the entrance boldly requests 30 francs. Then a muscular young blond man with pierced nostrils steps up to him and asks something in loud colloquial French.

Je suis desolé, Monsieur, mais je ne suis pas français and je ne vous comprehends pas.

The muscular man moves closer and shouts these same words back at him. Three friends, among them a whore, watch, smirking.

Je cherche un flic, he says.

Cherches un flic! Cherches un flic! the other screams.

There are no soldiers and police in the Gare de Lyon after midnight. The subways and the gendarmerie close.

 

 

Books by Michael Andre available at Amazon.com - too many to list, please go to http://www.amazon.com and do a search!

Other Books by Michael Andre:

Experiments in Banal Living - order through customer.service@ccmailgw.genpub.com

Email Michael at MAndreOx@aol.com for an invitation to visit his Unmuzzled OX bulletin board!

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