Le mardi à Monoprix

Every Tuesday for some time now, Marie-Pierre has been coming to look after her widowed father, in the neighborhood where she grew up. She spends the day with him, doing his housework and ironing. They chat a bit, about everything and nothing. Today and yesterday. Before. Chantal, the mother, who is no longer with us. Jean-Pierre too. They chat and then go out. They take the usual walk. The rue droite, the place de la Mairie and then the path along the canal.

But above all, on Tuesdays, Marie-Pierre and her father, go to Monoprix. They pick up things for the week. Enough to feed her father until the following Tuesday. They both go through the aisles. Marie-Pierre carries the groceries in the plastic basket from Monoprix. They have their own little routine. Then they queue up and go to the checkout. We know them here. We watch them, especially Marie-Pierre. Marie-Pierre is beautiful. She's all you see. All eyes are on her when she goes shopping with her father on Tuesday mornings at Monoprix.

A long time ago, Marie-Pierre's name was Jean-Pierre.