Nun of it

A gentleman speaks to me in french from another park bench. I don’t understand any of it. He is older and seems gentle. I saw him chatting earlier with Alice, who is also French and walking her cat around this section of the park.

At this moment, Nun, the cat, is currently on the bench with me, on a leash being so ever slightly interested in me. Alice is also here, tethered to the cat.

The older gentleman speaks across to me while gesturing to his own chest. It almost sounds like he is saying bosom. Especially as he starts gesturing with two hands. Alice begins translating quickly, she knows I don’t speak French.
“Eh, e is saying, you have a good… em… er… soul?… yes, soul… o eart for Nun to come so close to you”, she says to me in her french accent. “Catz neuw gud peeppole.”

I’m flattered and express my gratitude in the best french I know.

“Merci beau coo”, I say as I place a hand on my chest and return puckered lips, a semi frown, and the turned down eyebrows of someone who is trying to look touched. I am touched, but I am overdoing the emoting. Maybe if I over translate my body language it will help him and the universe better understand how I feel. I want the universe to bring more moments like this to me. I am a parasite when it comes to receiving compliments from strangers. Not just any compliments, but ones where I am a “perfect little jigsaw” in the world and that I am speaking to the spirit of living things.

Alice and Nun linger longer and I am delighted. I think she is attractive, seems age appropriate for me and takes her cat to the park. She asks me where I am from and as I answer, Nun slips her harness and Alice is called into action in the bushes. She wrangles Nun and comes to sit beside me on the bench.

It is 70 degrees in Paris today. The city and this park are buzzing with people. One of the reasons I think the bench I am sitting on is empty is because there was barely one section of it that wasn’t covered in bird shit. It looks like some one had been sitting on the bench during a shit storm and when they got up they left this one area clear. Like the spot under a car in a driveway after a recent rain.

I am sitting in the clear area. Alice is distracted and sitting on large swatches of dried tans and white. She is busy strategizing how to prevent this cat from escaping and get it back into its harness. I didn’t help. I am allergic to cats.

She continues where we left off. “Ew ahr from Seattle”. We trade a couple of “get to know yous” back and forth and after we exchange names, she excuses herself to put the cat back in its bag.

I went back to my book and finished the chapter.

On my way out of the park, I walk past the old man and say, “Ory vwar”, but he has his AirPods in and was watching something on his phone and didn’t hear me.