So this French kid – he’s 18, supposed to be a man. He doesn’t feel like a man. What does being a man even feel like? This kid’s sitting out on the back step under a grey sky eating a boiled potato. (I don’t know if they had potatoes in 17th century France, but that’s what he’s eating.) He doesn’t mean to drop bits of potato on his uniform. He doesn’t mean to to smear the bits that he drops into his too-short jacket. He didn’t mean to drop the plate full of dinner on Madam Fieubert’s shoulder. Or trip over the dog and pull down the curtains. He means to be a good servant in a tidy uniform who earns, now and again, a quiet nod of recognition for a job well done. Instead he has the wrong body for a uniform, the wrong shape for serving in a house. He’s all angles that poke into ribs and bounce off walls and step on the wrong parts of the stairs. That’s why he’s outside in the January wind:
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🥔 TREE 643: This kid sees a tree
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So this French kid – he’s 18, supposed to be a man. He doesn’t feel like a man. What does being a man even feel like? This kid’s sitting out on the back step under a grey sky eating a boiled potato. (I don’t know if they had potatoes in 17th century France, but that’s what he’s eating.) He doesn’t mean to drop bits of potato on his uniform. He doesn’t mean to to smear the bits that he drops into his too-short jacket. He didn’t mean to drop the plate full of dinner on Madam Fieubert’s shoulder. Or trip over the dog and pull down the curtains. He means to be a good servant in a tidy uniform who earns, now and again, a quiet nod of recognition for a job well done. Instead he has the wrong body for a uniform, the wrong shape for serving in a house. He’s all angles that poke into ribs and bounce off walls and step on the wrong parts of the stairs. That’s why he’s outside in the January wind: