The simple things: Today’s Smiles

Skinny-leg jeans at the bus-stop. Egg yellow. No, daffodil.

Hide-and-seek. A whirlwind of tiny petals. My impossible hair. 

Good ham. Thick mayonnaise. Half a bottle of cracked pepper.

Freshly-inked A4's. Still warm. My finished assignment – three weeks early.

A snapshot memory. A chocolate waffle. Good intentions but poorly named.

High-heeled boots on a marble floor. So unnecessary. Clickety-clack.

Perforated edges. Sticky fingers. Caramel lips and melting tongue.

“Your mama” jokes. Linguistiques class? Ta mère est si plate qu’on peut la faxer.

Peeling lettuce. One perfect layer after another. Green velvet.

How to exist in a Sartre play. Laughing to a French movie. Sans subtitles. 

Blank canvas. Smooth teeth. Black strokes of eager keys.

The simple things: A Spring Afternoon

Sitting in French class one day, I decided to introduce to this blog a section on “the simple things” in life. A snapshot in words. A slice in time. The idea came to me because at that instant, I felt completely and utterly happy. Life was suddenly so simple and so sweet. And I realised that those were the moments truly worth capturing...

The sun is setting slowly below the Alps, its pink and orange rays reaching into the classroom, embracing us in its warm glow. Our professor’s vivid red hair, cut sharply into a bob, is a ruby and garnet kaleidoscope. Petite but bursting with life, she leads us in a lively discussion on intercultural verbal communication. My classmates – Italian, American, German, Portuguese, Russian, Canadian, Dutch, Swiss – and I, Chinese Australian, marvel and laugh at each other’s (often bizarre) cultural conventions. Fiddle music floats up from the courtyard below and through our open window, accompanied by the hum of happy voices and laughter. The improvised melody is perfect in its imperfection. My fingers are suddenly itching to caress the strings of my own violin and my feet begin tapping on their own accord. How I wish I could jump up and dance! But the waves of our discussion pull me back, and soon, I am lost once more in the beautiful sea of French and culture... La vie est belle.