The world is attracted to Paris, the city of light, but if you stay to live the shadow beneath her reveals itself to you eventually…at least it has to me. Through my daily struggle in Paris, I began to realize what possessed me to title this blog as ‘the third red apple.’ An initial hint is in the pages available in English and French, but little did I know that it was just a beginning.
Sunday, 23 September 2018
The true horror stories in modern Paris part 65
I wrote in my last post the reason why I
have been irregular in updating my blog.My wrist has had up days and down days when it simply hurt too much to
type.Today has been one of those latter
days.I apologize in advance if I fail my
With my left hand only I emailed to Mme.
Landlord to apologize for having broken her tap.I offered to replace it as soon as I return
from Japan.‘…right now, I need to catch
a plane to accompany my mother because she is too fragile to travel alone.’…Yes,
that cruel Mme. Landlord had made me work till the morning of my mother’s
departure from France.Mme. Landlord did
not even give my mother a chance to drive around Paris briefly for the last
time.To her, migrants were hers to own
and benefit from.
I managed by tipping whoever willing to
carry our luggage because my wrist had lost its mobility.Once on the plane, my mother started to cry
and blamed her for my injury.It did not
make sense to me, but she revealed that she was never ill during her stay in
Paris.She only pretended to be ill so
that I would leave her to fulfill my promise I made to Mme. Landlord about
painting her apartment.She sized up
Mme. Landlord immediately that she was a dark character who would spread
slander about me if she did not get what she wanted.My mother was worried that her slander may
ruin my chance of befriending other decent neighbors, so she chose to sacrifice
her last chance to see Europe and stayed alone in my room for a full week.Little did she imagine that Mme. Landlord
would be so avaricious that she would abuse me to the point my wrist would snap
in the cold chilly apartment where she refused to turn on her heaters for
Soon both my mother and I were crying in
the plane bound for Japan. I regret that
my desire to befriend a French, my desire to become a grateful migrant has
sacrificed my mother’s happiness.I had sort
of suspected that Mme. Landlord’s kind words were not without agenda, but my
principles disciplined me to repay her fake kindness all the same.How naïve of me to have hoped that she would
be touched by my sincerity.I should
distance myself from Mme. Landlord after this hard lesson.
It was not over.When I returned to my mother’s home and
turned on my computer, a message was waiting for me.It was from Mme. Landlord sending me a bill for
a new tap, more expensive than her old one, and the installation fee.I explained my wrist and how my mother
sacrificed her dream holidays for Mme. Landlord.Surely, she could wait till I return in a
month?I was still naive.The cruel woman ignored my mother’s distress and simply warned me that if I did not pay immediately, I would be paying interest.
The hyena was after my money shamelessly,
just like she pursued Jupiter, the sensitive gay tenant for his money.Very well, I would pay.Not for her, but for fighting her.I placed an international call to my lawyer
in Paris. To be continued.