Plus d’idees pour l’histoire
(More ideas for the story)
Acchhh, that song had made a hell of his childhood!!!
Echoes of the mindless “On the Bridge of Avignon” song followed the Duke everywhere. Even now that he was a middle-aged, moustachio-ed, dapper old Duke, the words and silly jingle of the popular ditty continued to haunt him. Whenever he travelled abroad, which was often, German and American tourists, not to mention all the Far Easterners, would consistently – upon being introduced and hearing his name – seize upon its very mention and immediately begin to sing “Sur le pont…”
It was a sort of reflex reaction with them really. Something like one of Ivan Pavlov’s dogs. The people could not be faulted. They had all been uniformly educated in their Beginner French classes in all the schools across the Continent, indeed world-wide, to respond thusly. Sometimes one of the hapless Americans would also launch into “Frere Jacques”.
Thus the first thing the Duke did when he made his get-away with Ann-Marie was to change his name. The pleasure of shedding this ancestral lodestone was enough to keep the Duke happy for all time. Well, it should have been enough, but of course, it wasn’t. For such sorts of ego-gratifications are short-lived and fade after several months. The Duke still remained the Duke.
He did change his name, though. His name was now Morris de La Fontaine.
Together with the great pleasure of being with Ann-Marie every night, “Duke” Morris’ life can only be described as idyllic.
Currently they were sitting on a large sunny rock in the middle of a mountain stream near Taos, New Mexico. They had arrived in Taos in late October from Denver. They were free, but did not know where to go next. Further south they thought.