Parle
Title: Parle
Rated: PG
Word Count: 657
Summary: Has your French improved since then?
Warnings: French.
Extra: The female sim was made by anuvi.
Parlez vous Francais?
Hope this finds you, the pretty Asian woman with the cute white hat. Sorry I didn't strike up a conversation...but I'm doing it now. So, how's your French?
- found in the Northern Virginia, USA Craigslist
Lawrence exhaled deeply, taking a single cigarette from the pack and replacing it within his pocket. He hesitated to light it, the lighter not even in his hands. He rolled the tobacco-filled cylinder between his fingers, stalling as much as he could. He only had about five minutes left of his ten minute break. He wanted to do all he could to make it go by as slowly as possible. There was no way he was in any rush to return to the exciting world of charging people insane amounts for car insurance. The faces of financially-raped clients, the haughty laugh of his avarice-filled boss...He would rather watch flies gather on a pile of fresh manure than endure any more.
Lawrence liked escaping his office and changing the scene, replacing the dull grey cubicles with lush green trees. The park was one of his favorite places. But he growled lowly as his ears twitched, the sound of chattering steel and bouncing balls echoing inside his mind. It was lunch time. What were other people even doing in his precious, silent escape pod?
He hated it. He absolutely hated it.
Didn't they, too, have a thankless job to get back to?
"Hmpf," Lawrence mumbled as he stared at his cigarette. His eyes then rolled back to the child and old woman. With a thought, he flicked the cigarette onto the ground. He didn't want that old bat to come over and lecture him about his "cancer sticks". It was one headache that wasn't needed.
As Lawrence's head rose to stare out into the street, his eyes met a blinding white figure. He cringed slightly but as he slowly reopened his eyes, they became locked. His lips parted slightly as she walked along the ivory stoneway.
The girl tilted her head slightly as she rounded the corner, her gaze meeting Lawrence's for a moment. Her arms seemed to struggle, trying to balance the large assortment of books that seemed to weigh her to one side.
Lawrence's lip trembled. Her eyes fell onto his. And then, her lips curved. The soft pink petals, a light glisten drawing Lawrence in. Then, just as quickly as their eyes met, her gaze was torn away as she stopped in front of an empty bench.
Lawrence tried not to stare but he couldn't help it. With a curious fascination, he watched as the woman in white placed her belongings down beside the steel feet of the bench. She carefully selected a book and then sat on the worn wood.
"Part 2-3: How To Tell Time..."
Lawrence's eyes remained forward but his ears once again twitch, as he heard the gentlest mumble come from the eburnean woman. Impossible for him before, he zoned out the other park-goers and focused intently on her. That voice which called to him needed to be heard.
"When telling time in French, it is important to know that word for "time," as in "what time is it?" is l'heure, not le temps. Hm," The woman looked up thoughtfully, "Le....hour? No, no. L'here. No. L'hair?"
Lawrence snorted. 'French, the language of love...' He recalled, 'Ironic.' He recalled his middle-school days, when his mother pushed him to learn the language of his great-grandparents. It had been so long since he last used any of what he learned but even so, he still knew what to say. "L'heure...lur," He mumbled softly.
The woman looked at him, her wide eyes blinking slowly. Then she slowly turned back to her book, "...L'heure.."
"Il est...une heure."
Lawrence just sat there, nodding slightly each time the woman said something and paused. It was as if she was waiting for his approval. This must've gone on for at least ten minutes. But then she closed her book and rose.
Lawrence just watched as she stroll past, mumbling the various times over and over again.
And then, she was gone.
And once again, Lawrence exhaled deeply. "Bonne chance avec votre francais, mon cher."