: the sixty-four thousand dollar question (something that is not known, the answer for which wins top prize!)
A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse
It is WONDERFUL to be back in my writing room! So how did I find myself typing in a corner of my bedroom on top of a felt-bare card table? Ça—c'est la question à mille francs!
My dear friend Tessa has her theories. Tess is the one who pried me out of my corner cave, where I fancied myself Writer In Residence for the past twelve months.
"Really, I like it here," I swore to my friend, who pulled me out of my délire, by the ear!
Soon we were knee-deep in the not-so-distant past as I watched the woman with the crate delegate.
"We'll need garbage bags, a broom, a dust-pan, and a plumeau," Tess said, handing me dozens of dusty old books that had been pulled out of a poubelle and given to me by a neighbor.
"Well, they should have STAYED in the bin!" Tess declared, pointing out the bug-infested pages. They will contaminate all of your favorite books!" There was no arguing with the bossy one. And so I followed orders, feather dusted, and filed.
"Why don't we stop for tea?" wondered little ol' me.
"Because we've only just begun!" Tess hummed, naturally. When she wasn't humming she spoke in "theatrical tongue" using many made-up words as we laughed and we purged.
"Is that a real word?" I asked when a favorite came up.
"Oh, I hope not!" Tess replied as we giggled and chucked stuff.
"How did you ever end up in that corner?" Tess wanted to know.
Qui sait? Though I suspect it has something to do... with how fast my office grew!
That is when I wandered off... to the quiet line of a corner and a clutter-free card desk... paring things down to where my mind could finally rest).
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(sound file will return on Wednesday...)
la question à mille francs = the 64 thousand dollar question
le délire = delirium
le plumeau = feather duster
la poubelle = garbage can, bin
But the dear artist brought her tulips...
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