Saturday, February 26, 2005

Paris (III) -- Adolf.

I don't know how I forgot that scene. It came back to me this morning as I was waking up.
If one scene could foretell the future of France, it would be this one.

On my way to the hospital. I am waiting for the subway on a crowded platform. It's rush hour, about 6:30 PM. I see a family walking toward me. The parents in their 50's. Both tanned, dressed in an expensive-casual way, their teenage son walking just behind them while talking. "Why didn't you call me Adolf?" he is asking. "Adolf is such a sweet name." His parents look mildly amused by the question, pretending to be chocked. He laughs at his own naughtiness.
Adolf is such a sweet name.


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