Date: April 11th, 2011
Location: The Village, France
A near-death experience, brought to you by the Curious Cockroach.
13:45
Yippee! On an afternoon hike. Have come back from Ukraine (and its bitter temperatures) to find The Village wearing its spring suit. Cherry and pear trees in full bloom, migrating frogs flattened on roads, sunshine all around. Maneuvering bike around each frog is getting difficult, so have decided to go exploring by foot.
14:01
Have just discovered a lovely little path heading from my village to one called St. Jean Lagineste. Map tells me to cross a green field. Yellow arrows indicate same thing. Wondering if this is correct.
14:05
Have just crossed green field. White sheep left right and center, little huts in the distance. Breathtaking! Can’t believe that used to be afraid of sheep. Sheep definitely less frightening than electricity and flying on airplanes.
16:30
Yellow arrows are leading me from one hamlet to the next. Have not seen a single person for three hours. A little unsettling, but probably part of general countryside charm.
Beginning to feel a bit like Little Red Ridinghood. Except am the modern equivalent, because am wearing little red raincoat. I wonder what the girl thought about while she was crossing the forest and fields. I mean, she didn’t know that she was about to be eaten alive, so she probably thought she had another good sixty years ahead of her. I’ll bet she was trying to figure out what to do with her life after the food delivery. An internal existential crisis no author could have picked up on.
16:32
Am refusing to think about what will do with own life after this hike, and after returning to Vancouver, and after finishing undergraduate degree. Am instead focusing on avoiding all these electric fences. The yellow arrows must have been drawn by someone drunk.
16: 45
Have discovered something wonderful! While walking through a hamlet, have come across a miniature village made entirely of mosaic tiles. Shiny ferris wheels, a red-and-white butcher shop, a dark blue river carefully laid out between the little huts. Miniature village is right beside an old house, which is cute and colourful itself. Wonder if the mosaic artist lives here? With his magical elves?
16: 59
No people or elves in sight, everything still and silent. Am floating in a sublime state of zen. Have spent a good while looking at miniature village, imagining its tiny inhabitants. Am the Little Red Raincoat, in a secret marvelous land.
17:01:13
Ah! Bloody hell, what’s that howling? Howling getting louder! Louder still!
17:02:40
Large dog charging at my red raincoat like some enraged bull! Am wearing the raincoat! Am live target!
Dog is not slowing down! Dog is not slowing down!
17:02:56
“REVIENS, ESPECE DE SALOPPE!!!” (“COME BACK HERE, YOU BLOODY BITCH”)
Elderly lady just appeared on pathway. Hopefully lady is yelling at dog. Dog not listening.
“REVIENS, JE TE DIS, REVIENS, PUTAIN DE SALOPPE!!!”
At last second, dog swerves to my left, executes a loop, and runs back to elderly lady. Lady catches dog, holds him by the neck, then keeps him still between her knees, all the while smoking a cigarette.
17:03
Am rooted to my spot, trembling. The lady looks at me curiously, then exhales a large cloud of smoke. She gives me little nod. Then continues on her way, with beast growling at her side.
I take a few steps, then chance a look back. I see her walking through the mosaic village, then into none other than the magical house.
The End.
And this is how fairy-tales go down in France. Except this one actually happened.
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