Thoughts

There comes a point in everyone's life after conjugating so many verbs into the passé simple, subjonctif, futur antérieur, and imparfait of the subjonctif when one starts to wonder, "Why am I doing this? I'll probably forget it all in a year's time anyway. I'll lose it when there's no one to talk French with." And that's when, just in time, one comes across a word like jetâtes. Jetâtes. One sits there for awhile, feeling the warmth of the word and the warmth of the sun. The neighbor cat stops by to chat. Leaves and phrases spin in circles. It is at that moment when one realizes she must carry on, if not for the sake of practicality, for the sake of beauty.