French Farce

Alice Anne Gordon

Fete 19th Juillet shouted the banner in bold red lettering as we wandered round the hamlet of St. Papoul. The banner didnt give much more information so we took on the challenge and set off in search of what would hopefully be an exciting afternoon.

For such a small place, there were a lot of winding back streets and passageways. Finally, we stumbled across an area of growing life. Cars pulling into the same street. Parked cars with their owners already departed. This surely must be where the Fete was. We continued to the end of the street and round the corner, found what looked like a rather important building. More cars pulled up and a small crowd had gathered outside. Unsure of the etiquette and formalities of how a small Hamlet might open their Fete, we stood quietly with the locals and waited for, perhaps, a Mayors welcoming speech before the festivities began.

The crowd grew and still the cars came.

The last car to arrive was travelling much slower than the others. It was black and, we couldnt tell at first, but it looked longer than the others. As it drew inevitably closer, it soon became apparent it was coffin length. And it came complete with a priest at its tailgate. ... (continues)