Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

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PeteMork
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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by PeteMork » Sat Oct 05, 2019 11:13 pm

Well done. But now, certainly as a result of GK's carful and discrete direction, I'm looking with great interest at Halima's parents. :think:
We never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain. (Roberto Bolaño)

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dongregg
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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by dongregg » Sat Oct 05, 2019 11:27 pm

If GK and I can get the kids to Barcelona, I' bet Halima shows up again. Her papa has business interests there. :)
“For drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent.”

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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by gkmoberg1 » Tue Oct 08, 2019 3:21 am

The bus seats seated two, side-by-side. She guided the kids into one row, seated herself in the next and noticed that “the dads” sat in the row behind. Turning around in her seat and looking over the back, she was now facing the four of them. She leaned over at Oskar and Eli, finally able say anything to them, and started off with “Let’s play a game.”

The bus pulled out of the station.

The two, their eyes right in front of her, looked at her inquisitively. She had been working through all day what she knew about them: they didn’t speak French, they didn’t know the area, they were sick and so likely had limitations. She had a list of surmises based on the behavior she had seen. That she hadn’t learned their names was bit of a goof. She had meant to find out from the nice Mr. Ávila but had forgotten. No matter, she had figured. But just now Mr. Ávila to her and her dad as, well, she thought she had heard Ooscar and perhaps Helene.

“Yes, let’s play Jamais je n'ai,” she said. It was a game she had played hundreds of times, especially with her girl friends at boring moments and even recently with her little brother who was catching onto quick word games. She hadn't played it recently herself with friends, only with her brother, yet she thought it would a good way to make a start.

They looked at her blankly, which was good. It was a test to see if they really did not know French. They didn’t; she could tell.

“It’s called Never Have I Ever,” she continued with a grin and put away her French. She was going to have try her best on English only.

“Hold out your fingers.” And she did. They did too, tentatively.

“We’ll go slow to start. We take turns. You begin always with ‘Never Have I Ever’ and then say one thing that is true. But you cannot repeat. If you repeat you lose a finger!”

Eli bit her lip but was intrigued.

“I start,” said Halima, “Never have I ever … been on an airplane.”

Never have I ever … met you before,” said Oskar, who turned to see what Eli would say.

Never have I ever … been to France.”

“Good!” said Halima. “Now to make it so you can say either way, you can say also ‘Ever have I ever’. Yes? Okay, okay. Ever have I ever … helped my little brother.”

Ever have I ever … eaten, um, knäckebröd,” said Oskar, stumbling over how to say what he wanted to get out. Halima looked at him trying to figure that one out.

“Crispy bread,” said Eli.

“Um, yeh, crisp bread,” repeated Oskar.

“Do I have to do an Ever or can I do another Never?” said Eli.

“Either way!” said Halima.

Never have I ever … fallen out of a tree,” said Eli.

“Good!” said Halima again. “New rule: You say one word after your are done. You say Never or Ever and next person has to do that way.”

Oskar made a face, not sure if he liked this.

“Or,” continued Halima, “you say something that is a thing. Such as, um, clothing, and next person can say a Never or an Ever about that thing.”

“So, I say ‘Ever have I ever … been talkative’,” she said.

“And that would be true,” said her dad.

Realizing “the dads” had been listening in from the seat behind the two kids, she waved her extended ten fingers at him. “Dad! Please this is very important. You have your rice and fish and breads and nuts business to talk about.”

“Yes we do,” he said, knowing she was playing with him yet asking for a bit of respectful distance. “We’ll go back to discussing couscous and bastilla, but you have to not interfere,” he replied teasing her back and adding “Ever have I ever known you to like couscous.”

Halima shook waggled her fingers in mock frustration and looked at Oskar. “Clothing.”

Oskar hesitated. “Never have I ever … worn a dress,” he decided upon, but then turned to Eli and said “Dress.”

“Ah, ah, uh,” and Eli pinched her eyes at him, “Ever have I ever … meant to return that dress to your mom!”

They both laughed.

Eli looked Halima and said “Thievery.”

Halima jumped and drew back her hands in feigned shock. “Never have I ever … been a thief!” Then turning to Oskar, she said “Policeman.” ,,,

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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by dongregg » Tue Oct 08, 2019 6:03 am

Delightful bonding continues. I have no doubt that Halima will cajole her dad into taking her to Barcelona on one of his business trips. What would you bet that it will coincide with Ingrid showing up with Constantin and Sassa on one of their visits?
“For drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent.”

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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by dongregg » Tue Oct 08, 2019 6:07 am

And the bonding goes on. I'm certain that Halima will cajole her dad into letting her accompany him on one of his business trips to Barcelona. Perhaps it will be far enough down the road to coincide with Professor Grigor, Sassa, and Ingrid's visit. A visit later in the story than the honeymoon after the wedding. Halima and Ingrid are the same age. Halima will not be too surprised that the kids are still 12, but their official diagnosis of a rare form of dwarfism will elicit wonder and sympathy.

I really enjoyed jamais je n'ai!
“For drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent.”

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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by PeteMork » Tue Oct 08, 2019 1:30 pm

Hmm... Now what could Halima be up to with this drinking game sans sauce? Is she hoping to trap them into inadvertently revealing things about themselves? Or is she testing out her own theories? :think:
We never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain. (Roberto Bolaño)


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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by gkmoberg1 » Thu Nov 07, 2019 5:23 am

“A little bit later”
Another scene from the ongoing saga of E & O & Á ’s adventures near Paris



[The writers for this vignette disavow any claims of their perhaps having toured the area in person and perhaps having spent a little too much time at all the cafes and shops. Any postcards you might receive from such an adventure would, um, just be coincidental. Please pardon any crumbs or dabs of espresso.]



~oOo~

The group exited the ‘Line 13’ at Guy Mouquet. Halima had been watching and got her dad’s attention as the bus slowed and pulled over. She noticed his approval of this particular stop, a touch of admiration that his daughter was navigating the world so well, yet also a touch of concern over just how far Halima might be straying out alone across the metropolis.

“I thought here would be better than Place de Clichy,” she said to her dad once they were off and regrouped.

“A good choice,” he said to all but again with a look of worry again at her. “There is a lot for us to see.”

Halima knew “the dads” had been talking about her dad’s business and chief passion – they were one and the same – the entire way. Walking to Montmartre from here would start along Avenue de Staint-Ouen where where were plenty of little places where their talk could continue.

She chose not to mention she was here the previous evening.

Eli and Oskar chose not mention they had been here the previous evening.

For Mr. Ávila, the street was unfamiliar.

“We went along yesterday, I think, to the next stop,” said Mr. Ávila. Eli and Oskar nodded in agreement.

“That is good, actually,” said Serhane. “There is plenty here to explore. Look you can see Sacré-Cœur on Montmartre off this way.”

They made their way along. It was a pleasant evening. The street and its shops were alive. Halima’s father pointed out particular places, but this was mostly as part of the continued conversation he had been having with Mr Ávila.

After several blocks of the children tagging along behind, Serhane stopped and looked back at them. Then at his watch. “Mr Ávila, would you allow ... should we let these youngsters wander for a while? I suspect they are not interested in our talk.”

The looks on all three of the younger ones brightened in unison.

“Your suggestion is good with me. That is if we can arrange for a time and place for all to meet,” said Mr. Ávila.

“Let’s say ninety minutes from now. Favorite daughter Halima, can I count on you to keep these two and yourself out of trouble and back here, right here, at that time?”

“Yes, I can,” said his favorite and only daughter.

“You will stay on the main streets.”

“Yes, father.”

“Oskar and Miss Eli,” said Mr Ávila, “same rules for you. Be back here on time. And you must stay with Miss Halima the entire time.”

“We will,” said Eli. Oskar nodded.

“Off you go,” said Serhane. “Be polite Parisian urchins.”

Halima, brightening yet further, signaled which way she wanted to go, and the three of them moved on at a decidedly faster pace than Mr Ávila and her father. The men watched the kids go and agreed the three were going to have more fun than in following along with the two of them.

“Let’s start over here,” said Serhane, “this little place has what I was talking about. It’s solidly French but they import much of their supplies from two main sources: directly from the nearby region or from the Mediterranean port merchants….” It was the last Halima could hear as the distance grew.

~oOo~

Wanting to gain some distance before tonight’s improbable run of good luck (as could only happen in a fan-fic) might wane, Halima urged ‘Ooscar’ and ‘Helene’ along. They crossed the street and hurried along Rue Etex . She knew a couple stores a good number of blocks ahead that she liked and remembered liking a couple years ago when she was their age.

“Do you want anything to eat?” she asked. They shook their heads no.

She regathered herself. On the bus ride, they had moved through a variety of games. Her new acquaintances were delightfully quick at Jamais je n'ai , and she figured they could continue on the way home. Adding more rules or letting them add rules might be fun. The next game they had played, a clap & counting game, had been more vigorous though also a challenge because of the bus seats. They had decided the winner of the previous round would sit in the facing row; this caused frequent seat switches. Trouble was that as it was played against the odd rhythm of a French song, so she had to sing the lines solo. But, she thought, it felt fun being twelve or thirteen again. She decided if only her brother were a bit older, she might be able to do the same with him.

They hurried along passed the cemetery and made it to Rue Damrémont, where they turned left. They were officially now in the area of Montmarte. Halima made a guess “the dads” were about four blocks behind.

Another block more, they reached the store and went in.

It was small, pleasant local shop that carried a variety of clothing and children items. The back was loaded with toys, games and books. Most were more for her brother’s age yet there were some things that might be good to look at.

“You have to tell me your name,” she said to Oskar. “I’m sorry. I think I heard Ooscar before. Is that right?”

“Oskar is right,” he said with a smile.

“And you are Helene?” she asked Eli.

“No. It’s Eli.”

“Eli. ... Eli. Yes?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“I like how Mr Ávila calls you Miss Eli.”

“He does,” Eli smiled and then added “Miss Halima.”

“Miss Halima? Nobody calls me that.”

“Mr. Ávila did. When we left them, he said we are to stay with ‘Miss Halima’.”

“Very funny. Do not you call me that.”

“Just Miss then.”

Halima’s eyes got big, until she realized Eli was having fun with her. She blushed as she turned away and busied herself with looking at some craft sewing books, which were positively dull but gave her a moment.

Together they moved along and poked at some of the boxes of puzzles, card games and board games, but there was nothing of interest. Wandering back outside, she continued them up the street.

They stood at a fountain briefly and watched the water and the people.

“I like it here,” said Oskar. “But I don’t know any French.”

“If you stay, you will catch on,” said Halima.

“We don’t know how long we will be here,” replied Eli. “Maybe a few more days.”

“That is sad. Okay, okay, let’s see what we can do next.”

Halima remembered the small shop where she found Moi D’Abord last night in the discount book bin. “I know a place. Follow me.”

Once again the little group hurried along the streets, making several turns. Halima was careful to spot a clock now and then so as to make sure they would not be late getting back. Turning on to a smaller street she found the store.

Eli and Oskar looked at each other as they went in. This was the area where there had been some trouble last night. Yet Halima really didn’t seem to know about that.

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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by dongregg » Thu Nov 07, 2019 7:11 am

GK, this continues to flow as smoothly and calmly as the Seine. I'm trying to use my Paris maps to keep up. :D

I have kept all of this in a single file. I mark an occasional passage to discuss. Ditto the rare typo.

It's just all so good. So delightful. :wub:
“For drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent.”

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Re: Community Prompt Sharing and Adapting

Post by PeteMork » Thu Nov 07, 2019 2:34 pm

I agree completely. I especially love these little bits:
She blushed as she turned away and busied herself with looking at some craft sewing books, which were positively dull but gave her a moment.
and
They stood at a fountain briefly and watched the water and the people.
We never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain. (Roberto Bolaño)

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