Oct
29
occitania
i forgot to tell you about the two sisters. they were seventy-something with skinny legs and boxy busts, and they waddled around the restored stone grainery scolding each other in the pyrenees patois called bearnais. it is a dying language that few can understand. during dinner they sat next to each other. denise said little, but rolled her eyes, winked at me, and adjusted her darn dentures. marguerite squaked for her husband to shut up, she must have told him one hundred times, “tais-toi louis!” and when scandalized by the conversation, she punched her son-in-law gilles in the left bicep, and in her shrill voice clucked, “oh putain, oh putain. oh bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop.”
