Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 63

B"H functional value of the garage spa ce as a small-scale warehouse. The last days of my residency in his abode, I devoted to his garden, the sight of which was vastly improved by my loving caresses. When my three weeks were expiring, arguments began as to what my pay would be if I continued i n his employ. These discussions boiled our friendship into a bitterly sharp residue. Instead of recounting the ensuing arguments that led to a fricative departure, I'll conclude by stating we'd do well to retain recollection of deep discussions and laughte r we shared; he had certain expectations that I rejected forthrightly. Out of the Frying Pan Failure nipping at my heels , defeat barking ravenously and menacingly, I was faced with the challenges of finding shelter in Safrascity (where I could eat kosher meals). It will suffice to describe the situation in human communicat ion, though I refute that words distinguish us as the most intelligent of all the creatures in the world. Moreover, if you say the sound is an expression o f the soul; we agree, but the bir ds are the ones who sing the song o f creation. They chirp in applause when the sunlight peaks through the dark, and then again at dusk, a call to rest. Another thin g certain, in my garden, Yow, I delight in the recollection how ivy is able to climb walls b y sending out little hair like fila ments that turn into glue. We learn thusly, a person who wants to climb walls should prepare the way by sending out tentacles that'll stick to its surface. Such genius is not evident in the human character. We, however, do send out feelers to size up the realm o f possibility. To establish residency on Safrascity I w ould have to rely on religious identification within the Orthodox Jewis h community, hopeful to arrange a short -term rental. By this time, I had achieved absolute uncertainty, encompassing myself with a feeling of total detachment fro m the normative patterns o f existence that provide a person with his security. I didn't know when I would leave Safrascity nor if I could earn money being there. Didn't know if I would have a roof over my head and didn't know what I could consume as my daily meals. During my first three weeks in Safrascity, I rarely ate cooked food; and each Shabbat went to the home of someone whose family would provide hospitality for the festive meals. I joined a circus and slept in the elephant tent, that's almost a joke but not funny, unless the author informs us how so. 63