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Anjali took another French lesson. Christelle’s fee wasn’t too high, and in spite of the money she had spent on Pearl, Anjali felt she just had to invest in learning French.
“Today we study the shapes,” Christelle said as she floated onto the café chair. She was in harem pants again, a different print than last time: black and white geometric shapes, to go with her lesson perhaps.
“Square is ‘carré,’ which you see on the maps of Paris for the squares and small parks, and triangle is ‘triangle!’ So easy, that one, la même chose. And circle is ‘cercle.’”
Anjali studied Christelle’s pronunciation. For “cercle” she had said “sairk” with just a hint of an “l” on the end.
“I’m going to my writers’ cirque next week,” Anjali said. As she was saying “seerk,” she knew she was making a mistake but couldn’t stop herself.
“Ooh-la!” Christelle said. “You’re going to your writers’ circus next week?”
Anjali blushed at Christelle’s laughter. Being in a new culture, learning a new language, was causing her to make some dumb mistakes. As long as I don’t make one with Ravi.
“Well, it is a bit of a circus sometimes.”
