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Susan had found the ferry trip over the Channel, harder than she thought: she'd felt sick and couldn't eat or drink, but sat downstairs in the lounge, either pretending to be asleep, or gazing at passing people and wondering where they were going or doing. Jude was on her mind most of the time, how he was or where he'd gone after leaving her on the platform and seeing the train off out of sight. She had looked from the train window until he was a mere blot on the far off landscape. Now as she was on a train to Paris she found she couldn't stop thinking of him, how she should have told him about being a nun on the outskirts of Paris, but she hadn't, just let him kiss her, full of hope that when she returned from her journey she'd say yes to his marriage proposal and that life would proceed as he had thought. And there was those odd couples on the train each of them escaping like she was from someone or something to go somewhere as if to escape. She looks out the window of the train to Paris watching the scenery change, hearing people around her speak French and smile and laugh, only vague thoughts of the convent she was going to, what would she have there, what she would feel like when the convent doors closed behind her. And her parents they had not wanted her to enter the convent at all; Mother with her you'll be dead to us and Father saying I never thought a daughter of mine would waste their life amongst lonely old woman and making her feel a traitor other than a possible future saint. The rush of the French train makes her feel slightly giddy and lowly faint.
0
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 2:46 AM UTC
LOWLY FAINT 1980.
Susan had found the ferry trip over the Channel, harder than she thought: she'd felt sick and couldn't eat or drink, but sat downstairs in the lounge, either pretending to be asleep, or gazing at passing people and wondering where they were going or doing. Jude was on her mind most of the time, how he was or where he'd gone after leaving her on the platform and seeing the train off out of sight. She had looked from the train window until he was a mere blot on the far off landscape. Now as she was on a train to Paris she found she couldn't stop thinking of him, how she should have told him about being a nun on the outskirts of Paris, but she hadn't, just let him kiss her, full of hope that when she returned from her journey she'd say yes to his marriage proposal and that life would proceed as he had thought. And there was those odd couples on the train each of them escaping like she was from someone or something to go somewhere as if to escape. She looks out the window of the train to Paris watching the scenery change, hearing people around her speak French and smile and laugh, only vague thoughts of the convent she was going to, what would she have there, what she would feel like when the convent doors closed behind her. And her parents they had not wanted her to enter the convent at all; Mother with her you'll be dead to us and Father saying I never thought a daughter of mine would waste their life amongst lonely old woman and making her feel a traitor other than a possible future saint. The rush of the French train makes her feel slightly giddy and lowly faint.
A WOMAN ON A JOURNEY TO A CONVENT OUTSIDE PARIS IN 1980.
TerryCollett
Written by
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 2:46 AM UTC
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