Post by ANDRE BOUVIER on Nov 21, 2013 23:58:20 GMT -5
(Context Note: One week prior to revolution)
It was late, nearly a quarter to midnight, the sky unusually clear with the moonlight glistening off the cobblestone streets. By now, most of the cafes and shops were closed, and the bars were filled with people too young or too vain for Andre to feel like dealing with tonight. He was dressed in plain clothes tonight, black pants with an off-white shirt and grey vest with his stubble of a beard from having not shaven all day, and all he wanted was a quiet drink somewhere. No talks of the war, no groveling to the nobility, no grumbling of revolution. There was much more of it than he had expected, it had been so long since he had been in Paris. Barely a week in the city and it was all the upper echelons were talking about. We have to prepare for the worst. These anarchists intend to destroy all we've worked for. People need to know their place. And on and on and on they went. It was as though they were blissfully unaware, or willfully ignorant, of the fact that the lieutenant colonel came from the very classes they were bashing. The poor, the middle class, the sick, the orphans and widows, it meant little to them they were all the same in the eyes of the nobility. It was always 'best' when they started complaining about the uppity peasants too educated for their own good. He struggled to not snicker openly at that.
Spotting one cafe with the lights still on, Andre sighed a sigh of relief. It seemed empty, or at least empty enough that he wouldn't be bumping elbows with anyone. Walking into the cafe, he saw only a few souls milling about. A drunken homeless man asleep in the corner, two young lovers in the door, some vague mutterings upstairs. He didn't particularly care for any, he just wanted a drink. Taking a seat on a corner booth (to be able to watch the exits) opposite to the homeless man, he waved for the waitress with his right hand (the one with all the fingers still attached).
"Mademoiselle! Pardon, but may I have a a bottle of whiskey and a glass? Or some wine? Either will do."
It was late, nearly a quarter to midnight, the sky unusually clear with the moonlight glistening off the cobblestone streets. By now, most of the cafes and shops were closed, and the bars were filled with people too young or too vain for Andre to feel like dealing with tonight. He was dressed in plain clothes tonight, black pants with an off-white shirt and grey vest with his stubble of a beard from having not shaven all day, and all he wanted was a quiet drink somewhere. No talks of the war, no groveling to the nobility, no grumbling of revolution. There was much more of it than he had expected, it had been so long since he had been in Paris. Barely a week in the city and it was all the upper echelons were talking about. We have to prepare for the worst. These anarchists intend to destroy all we've worked for. People need to know their place. And on and on and on they went. It was as though they were blissfully unaware, or willfully ignorant, of the fact that the lieutenant colonel came from the very classes they were bashing. The poor, the middle class, the sick, the orphans and widows, it meant little to them they were all the same in the eyes of the nobility. It was always 'best' when they started complaining about the uppity peasants too educated for their own good. He struggled to not snicker openly at that.
Spotting one cafe with the lights still on, Andre sighed a sigh of relief. It seemed empty, or at least empty enough that he wouldn't be bumping elbows with anyone. Walking into the cafe, he saw only a few souls milling about. A drunken homeless man asleep in the corner, two young lovers in the door, some vague mutterings upstairs. He didn't particularly care for any, he just wanted a drink. Taking a seat on a corner booth (to be able to watch the exits) opposite to the homeless man, he waved for the waitress with his right hand (the one with all the fingers still attached).
"Mademoiselle! Pardon, but may I have a a bottle of whiskey and a glass? Or some wine? Either will do."