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i am the storyteller

I was the girl that used to hear music whenever a love scene was in sight. Whether a young couple was kissing at the corned of the street or an elderly couple was holding hands i was there smiling and orchestrating symphonies in my mind. i thought i would make a nice video director one day and went to sleep with a smile.

 A dreamer, they called me, walking the earth with my heads in  the clouds all the time, could never figure out the X in the equations but always able to make up a good story about who x was and why he was always hiding.

I went to school that day and realized i had forgotten to do my homework for the french class. For some reason the french teacher liked me. She used to enter the room and greet everyone : BONJOUR MES ELEVES! and the class would reply :Bonjour professeur. The kind words none the less, stopped there.The rest was a struggle on both sides: for the class to correctly pronuncewords like: feuille and muie..and for the teacher to bear with the constant chit chat in the back rows. It was not easy with a bunch of  Romanian “Mameluks”. That was the name she had given us.

For some lucky bastards such as myself, who could by miracle remember words they heard just once in a foreign language and could also mimic the accent and intonation of the native speaker, the french class was easy… But that day i had forgotten even that easy task called french class homework. I knew i was supposed to read my composition out loud and then turn it over for grammar check.  I knew that but also forgot about it. The teacher started  the class by giving the others an opportunity to read their composition  in alphabetical order. Their names started with A or B while mine started with C. I then thought i still had a few minutes to write something down, but what about? We had no specific theme. My deskmate suggested that i should write about what i did back home the other day. She said :”you must have done something since you did not have time for homework! what did you do?”

Well, i read a french art catalogue about Monet…and looked at the pictures of his paintings. One day i’ll go see them in france and…”

” Well, until that day,  you should do something about that homework.. like before you flunk french for being absent minded..

So i started to write about Monet, his mad ambition to paint and his favorite color which i have named ” abyssal blue”  about how one of the most isolated shores and it’s strange ” etretat” is the gate to infinite creation…and then i heard my name and dragged my notebook from under the desk and started reading. At a certain point the teacher said:” Cela suffit. Donne-moi ton cahier!”

I took the notebook to the teacher” s desk and she grabbed my arm. She kept me there standing as she turned my beautiful blue ink into red! When  she returned it to me she said: you should write some day..Do finish this one until tomorrow and keep in mind what i have written in red.

The red notes said:

Do pay attention to commas dear, they change the entire meaning if misplaced.

Also, please remember not to use so many exclamation marks in a description. It really feels  like you were shouting about whatever was there in front of you, Were you shouting, dear?

Please consider this is not the Italian language class. You have a tendency of putting in too many doubles : “merveille” is spelled with “double l” but there is no “double l” in SPECTACULAIRE!

So i never stopped writing, or telling stories, or misplacing commas or doubling letters in words that normally do not have any doubles, but i have never told my teacher that i do use exclamation marks on purpose. Because I never shout!!!!! Never shout out,  never at someone, Except in writing…



Posted on 13 August '16 by admin, under Eng..

One Comment to “i am the storyteller”

#1 Posted by toteu (26.05.17 at 09:03 )


pup u ..never stop writing..loving..living..
miss you, chinezoaica mea