souleyman Souleyman Thiao

"In 'Marie, My Prince Charming of My Thirty-Five Winters,' Marie, convinced she's under a romantic curse, sets out on a quest to find the perfect man in Bons-Vents. Her encounters with eccentric suitors like Jean lead to unexpected and humorous moments. The story concludes with a surprising confession of love at midnight on New Year's Eve, adding a touch of romance and fireworks to Marie's journey."


Romantik Romantische Spannung Alles öffentlich.

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MARIE


A shiver runs through my blanket; I instinctively open my eyes. A tinge of sadness courses through me as I see my frosted window and my calendar pointing ominously to the thirty-first of the month.

Here I am! The moment I dreaded the most!

It's not just a simple fate; someone must have cast a cursed spell on me.

Every time I stroll through the streets of Bons-Vents, I have the misfortune of encountering Don Juan look-alikes. I should never have read that book. Maybe that story is casting its shadow on my life like a karmic repercussion.

Despite feeling down, I get out of bed, first checking my watch: already 10 am!

The countdown has begun for me. Today, I will comb every corner of Bons-Vent, not stopping until I find him: the perfect man who may not exist.


Aware of the growing pressure, I propel myself towards my mirror.

I look like a mess: disheveled hair, tired and red eyes, wrinkled face.

Last night, I slept poorly despite the romantic series I followed. None could lift my spirits. I cried instead of laughing.

I wonder where women find these gentlemen—tender, sweet, attentive, kind, and above all, faithful.

Is there by any chance a secret dimension where these rare male gems hide?


Waiting for this answer, I pour myself a cup and put on a jumpsuit after my assured beauty ritual.


Once ready, I leave my apartment and lock the door behind me with two turns of the key.

My heels click lightly on the sidewalk as I prepare to embark on my romantic marathon.

Just a few steps outside, a familiar silhouette appears at the corner of the street. It's Jean, my first suitor, the one who piqued my curiosity with his eccentric stories.

Our eyes meet, and a conspiratorial smile blossoms on Jean's face.

"Marie, what a coincidence to meet you here! I have something extraordinary to tell you today," he declares with his usual enthusiasm.

"What, did you travel around the world this quarter?" I mock him.

"Yes, in a way. Last month, I went to China, then to Japan. I ate sushi and charmed a Japanese girl who couldn't resist my fatal gaze."

"I wish you all the happiness in the world," I sigh as I pass him.

He catches up immediately.

"No, no! We're not together. I clearly told her that I have a sweetheart: you. You look radiant this morning. How do you manage to always be so charming?"

"I met Cinderella's fairy godmother, you know, the one with the magic wand! I assure you, she works miracles!"

Jean joyfully smiles at my remark about Cinderella's fairy godmother.

"You really have a gift for humor, Marie. That's one of the reasons I love talking to you."


I give him a teasing smile.

"Of course, Jean, tell me how you managed to charm a Japanese girl with your 'fatal gaze.'"


He laughs, aware of my teasing.

"Well, you know, it's a gaze I use only for special occasions. A subtle mix of mystery and charm."


"I see, Jean's international gaze," I reply, laughing. "So, what is this 'extraordinary thing' you wanted to tell me?"


Jean takes a dramatic pause, then says with a mischievous wink, "Well, I heard that a beautiful lady was going on a romantic marathon today, and I thought I absolutely had to run into her."


I raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? So, you followed me?"


He laughs heartily. "Not at all, I'm just a lucky man who happens to be in the right place at the right time. So, where are you taking me in this romantic marathon?"

"Keep dreaming; I don't need a storyteller with his head in the stars. Goodbye, Phileas Fogg—no, at least he traveled around the world in less whimsical time than you. It would then be Jean, the fantastic explorer for you."

"Why do you always brush me off? What have I done to deserve this?"

"Go find your Japanese girl; she loves you, right? I wish you a new year of romance and happiness in the lands of Japan where cherry blossoms bloom."

While he stands there complaining, I put my fingers in my ears to no longer hear him.


A cozy coffee across the street catches my attention; I think, why not give it a try. Same waiter, I'll take it.


The coffee doors open, releasing a wave of welcoming warmth. Twinkling lights sparkle above the counter, creating a soft and intimate atmosphere. The murmur of conversations blends with the steady noise of coffee machines, creating a lively symphony.


I take a seat in a comfortable corner, the dim lights adding a touch of mystery to the atmosphere. Waiters bustle with trays of delicious pastries, and the enchanting aroma of freshly ground coffee fills the air.


I observe the people around me, noting couples sharing knowing laughs and friends getting lost in lively conversations. The coffee is a living tableau of human connections, a place where sparks of romance seem to dance with every served cup.


One particular waiter catches my interest; he looks handsome, with lush sideburns, a cheeky and somewhat mischievous glance. So, I call him over, and he hurries to my table, armed with his notepad and pen, his apron neatly tied around his waist.


Waiter: "What can I get you, madame?"

Me: (Light smile) "You..."


The waiter looks at me with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Well, I'm at your service. So, anything special today?"

Me: "I'll have... a cappuccino, please. Extra foam, like a cozy blanket. And if I can have you as dessert, that would be great."

The waiter gives a nervous smile. "Got it, a snug cappuccino in the making... and the waiter in person."

"Perfect."

I impatiently wait, feeling that this might be the one. He seemed to blush when I told him I wanted him as dessert.

Me, always playing hard to get, how did I end up taking the lead in seduction? I must be really desperate.

"Ta-da! Here's your perfectly frothed cappuccino and the waiter in question. We can't refuse anything to our customers on this festive day," he says with an amused look.

"I'm delighted then."

"What time is it?" he asks.

It was another opportunity for me to check my watch, a torment.

"11:30!" I reply.

"Fantastic, my shift is over; I'm all yours."

He takes a seat without waiting for my permission.

"Well, madame, how can the waiter you ordered brighten your day?"

"Can we use first names?"

"If you want..."

"Tell me about yourself, your job, what you're passionate about in life," I say, raising the cappuccino cup to my lips.

"Well..." he couldn't continue his sentence as he suddenly burst into laughter.

"What's wrong?"

"You have foam on your lips; it's cute."

I chuckle, not knowing what to say. Slowly, the young man gets up from his chair and comes to wipe the mousse off my lips with a corner of his apron. I felt an electrifying sensation.


Eyes locked, we devour each other's gaze. He's on the verge of kissing me when a voice thunders:


"Oh my God, Mark, what are you doing with this woman!?"


It's a blonde woman, her features tense.


The waiter, forgetting my presence, tries to explain:


"No, it's not what you think..."


The girl doesn't listen; she runs away in tears. Mark chases after her.


I stand there, embarrassed and bewildered. I'm certain I'm cursed; I'll never meet my soulmate. Fairy tales don't seem to be made for me.


Leaving the coffee with a slight disappointment, I glance at my watch and realize midnight is still far away.


I naturally enter a bookstore and encounter a handsome guy. His signs of attention make me think we're on the same romantic wavelength.


However, the unexpected turn comes when the man, with a warm smile, mentions that he's here to choose books for his 5-year-old daughter who loves to read. For a moment, I freeze, realizing that his attention wasn't directed toward me romantically but rather from a paternal perspective.


Disappointment overwhelms me, but I try to conceal my confusion. "Oh, uh, I... I thought that..."


The man, understanding, gives a smile. "No, no, I'm sorry if I gave the wrong impression. I'm here to choose books for my little girl. She loves bedtime stories."


I quickly apologize for the misunderstanding, but inside, I feel a mix of disappointment and amusement. Life sometimes has a strange sense of humor, reserving unexpected surprises even in a bookstore.


After the man leaves, I pick up a book and start reading. At some point, I doze off from weariness.


"Wake up, Madam, it's almost midnight; I have to close the place. My wife and children must be waiting for me at home," the librarian, a family man with an innocent face, wakes me up.


"Midnight, you say... I'm sorry," I jump up from my seat.


"It's okay; a happy New Year to you," he wishes me as I exit the library.


"To you too," I take a moment to return his kind wish.


As I struggle with my emotions outside the bookstore, my phone vibrates with a new notification. It's a message from Jean.


"Bons-Vents Station. 11:45 PM. I'm heading to my aunt's in the countryside; I hope you have a beautiful New Year's Eve with lots of fireworks."


My heart races. I know it's now or never. A glimmer of hope shines in the apparent darkness of my disappointing encounters. Now, I'm convinced that Jean is the prince charming I've been searching for all this time. Despite his eccentric stories, he manages to make me smile and have a good time every time.


Without a second thought, I rush to the station. The station is bustling; travelers are rushing to board trains.


A decision is made. Without overthinking, I circle the station, desperately searching for Jean in the crowd.


Suddenly, I see him. Jean, with his bag in hand, heading towards the platform. My heart pounds as I rush towards him.


"Jean! Wait!" I shout, my voice echoing amidst the deafening noise of the station.


He turns around, surprised. Breathless, I declare with all the emotion inside me, "Jean, I love you."


Seconds seem suspended in the air. Jean turns off his phone, and in the frantic silence of the station, he looks at me with deep understanding.


"Marie..." he whispers, his gaze expressing both surprise and joy.


The loudspeaker announces the imminent departure of the train, but at that precise moment, everything seems to stop. We embrace, ignoring the world around us. Midnight strikes under our passionate embrace, and fireworks crackle, decorating the starry sky with a thousand different colors.


THE END"

26. Dezember 2023 14:10 2 Bericht Einbetten Follow einer Story
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Über den Autor

Souleyman Thiao Étudiant en développement d'applications et passionné de littérature. Je profite de mon temps libre pour laisser libre cours à mon imagination. J'aime aussi écrire en anglais en plus du français qui est, je trouve, une langue assez géniale.

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Oluremi Zainab 🇬🇭 Oluremi Zainab 🇬🇭
I like your style of writing, very neat.
January 02, 2024, 16:10

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