The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 15

Fate—a factor you cannot overuse in fictions lest the plot becomes unrealistically convenient.  Thus the characters have to take the matters in their hands.  The readers cheer on while fully being aware that it does not happen in real life.  As this is my true story I could only wait for the fate to intervene.  I could not even move out the apartment because the agent would want to know the reason for breaking the contract.  If I told them, they would contact the landlord of Leila and that would tick off her fiancé.  Thus, I was barely surviving with a sound masking application which softens the onslaught of the washing machine and her relentless high-heel strikes on the floor without carpets.

Then one night a blast of disco music blocked out every sound in the world.  It was coming from the next door bar whose manager had no respect for the thin walls of the historic buildings.  The drumming beat continued to hit me until 03:00 in the morning.  Maybe longer but my memory stops there.  Hours later when I woke up shivering.  It was not from cold but from my extreme stress.  The tip of my tongue had lost sense, just like Mr. A. had lost his.  It was December the party month.  Staying in this environment until the New Year’s Eve would really break me.  With shivering fingers I booked a flight to Wien, Austria.  I must spend nights in a café for 5 days until the departure.  I would have left sooner but in December, the tickets were scarce.

Fortunately, the party at the next door pub repeated just once.    But on the fourth night, there was a tap on my door.  I jumped out of my skin, but realized that the tap was soft.  So I opened the door and saw a demure looking French girl.  She wanted to borrow my hairdryer because Leila had rent out her apartment without one.  Leila and her fiancé had wished to escape the bar’s noise too.  While it never occurred to me to get someone to pay for staying in this hell, these two had no moral issues about it, of course.  I rented the poor tourist my hairdryer which she promptly returned hours later.  Soon after that the drumming of party started at the bar.  I gritted my teeth telling myself it was for just one more night. 

As I could not sleep I left while it was still dark.  Never thought I would want to leave my beloved Paris so badly.  But unknown to me the fate had already dealt its card.  To be continued.
にほんブログ村 英語ブログへ