summer solstice (haibun)

http://dversepoets.com/2016/02/29/haibun-monday-8/

They had been pen pals for two years.  It felt like forever, he had been waiting to meet her again but Genvieve had to wait until she was seventeen. Maman would never had allowed this meeting until then. Jean-Claude Tremblay was her third cousin or as they said in Saint Félicien,  “cousin de la fesse gauche”.  He was twenty-six when they first met at les funérailles de mon oncle Léo two years ago.  It was love at first sight.  He, with his liquid blue eyes and Genevieve with her golden blonde locks and chocolate brown eyes.  Her life was never the same after their encounter.  Waiting was like being deprived of chocolate during Lent for over one hundred weeks. “Impossible!!” she thought, “ C’était de la torture!”  Now this June 24th, la fête de la Saint-Jean Baptiste,  he had decided it was time to speak to her parents as well as celebrate la fête nationale.

They corresponded every two weeks for two years and now, the wait was over.  She sighed, feeling a little sensation below her abdomen her mother had not quite explained to her when they had “the talk” quand on deviant femme.

She sat in the boudoir of la gare Windsor pretending to read a novel de Victor Hugo.  She had arrived from les canton de l’est early in the morning.  She looked at the clock on the wall.  It read twenty minutes to noon.  She felt a flip flop in her tummy, crossed the room to face the mirror and patted her chignon and pinched her cheeks.  “Parfait!” she whispered staring at her eyes swimming in love and want.

She went into the main hall of the station near Gate 24.

 heat of suspense
summer solstice hangs on,
lovers’ desires

© Tournesol ’16/03/01

Written for Dverse Poets ~ Haibun Monday

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23 thoughts on “summer solstice (haibun)

    1. I turned a truth into a romance story. My grandmother met my grandfather when she was 15 and he 25. He was riding on his horse and stopped to tell her that he would wait for her to grow up before asking her hand in marriage. GrandMaman always talked about their marriage with such love in her eyes. Now that would have been in 1915 they met and married in 1917.

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    1. Thanks, Melinda, that photo reminded me of Windsor Station that is closed now.I used to take the train every week from my small town to Montreal. Last summer I took tons of photos of the renovated station but they kept the old woodwork; from the outside it looks like a castle. I am not sure what the city or Canadian Pacific have in mind for it. I was raised in a small “hog town” meaning railway engineers. Lived by railway tracks most of my youth.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. This is so lovely.. the anticipation and the buildup, and your wonderful use of French… it all builds up to such a real story (and when I read it almost was it made sense)… and then I understand it was worth the wait.

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      1. haha!!! you’re famous by blood!!! You must write something about this. My mother and sister were excommunicated becuase they were divorced but the never stopped my mom from still going to communioin because she felt the new parish priest was silly…the former parish priest advised my mom to leave our father (wink) becuase of the damage he was doing to us (he knew only by listening to our confessions) and he never told on us. So I had good experiences when I needed it and not so good when it was less important.

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      2. Ha! i still go and have been known to give the priest hell.. As they say.. Change starts within.. Hope one day.. all we be equal partners in pews of Love.. SMiLes.. Again..:)

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