Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

Louis Armand

smile. ‘You seem very sure of yourself, young man.’ I smiled back at her, foolishly, unable to think of any- thing to say. ‘Sit with me,’ she said finally, indicating a low wooden chair leaning against the courtyard wall. The green parrot watched me closely as I brought the chair over and sat down beside the table, pointed knees sticking up awkwardly. ‘Would you care for some tea? It was Tomáš’s favourite. From Yunan province, in China. The famous six moun- tains. Do you know China at all? It is a very large coun- try with an ancient culture, much more ancient than our own. Here,’ she said, pouring a reddishbrown liquid into an empty cup. I didn’t care for any tea but it was better to humour the old lady. The tea, I noticed, had gone cold in the pot. She waited for me to taste it—it tasted like brackish water. She saw me wince and let her smile play out into the type of enlightened grin you see in pictures of Sri Chinmoy. The parrot faintly cackled. ‘An acquired taste, perhaps.’ I tried to balance the cup on one of my knees, thought better of it, and placed it on the edge of the table. Severínová watched all this with an appearance equally of bemusement and indifference. She leant back in her

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