A DAY IN THE LIFE
I asked him if he liked noisettes, the roasted hazelnuts sold by vendors on nearly every street corner. I had some in my bag, and if he liked them, I would go buy him his own bag.
He sat, feet dangling childlike over the edge of the lagoon, watching the waves coming in and out, crescendoing and fading, over and over.
“Bien sûr, tout le monde en mange,” he confided in the surf. Of course, everybody eats them.
I handed him my remaining bag and stood. He quickly ate several. I turned and located a vendor, and walked over to his grill, an overturned barrel.
When I handed him my money and looked over my shoulder, my friend was gone.
I told the vendor to keep them for another day.
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| A DAY IN THE LIFE |
He sat, feet dangling childlike over the edge of the lagoon, watching the waves coming in and out, crescendoing and fading, over and over.
“Bien sûr, tout le monde en mange,” he confided in the surf. Of course, everybody eats them.
I handed him my remaining bag and stood. He quickly ate several. I turned and located a vendor, and walked over to his grill, an overturned barrel.
When I handed him my money and looked over my shoulder, my friend was gone.
I told the vendor to keep them for another day.
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