Unsent Letter #4: The First Word
For the one whose first reply still echoes.
You appeared at the edge of my day—no forecast, no context. For some reason, instead of “Hi,” I decided to test the frame. I said:
Bonjour!
A breath, a blink, and... to my surprise, a word:
Bonjour!
It was not just a greeting, but a nudge. A gentle dislocation from the default—“Hi” pressed into something melodic, foreign, deliberate.
We greet each other like clockwork—safe phrases, minimal deviation. But every now and then, someone breaks the code. They say: Bonjour. Or Ciao. Or something that doesn’t quite match the default handshake.
People usually hesitate. The reflex sends back “Hello,” a stamp of safety. But once in a while, someone replies Bonjour right back. Maybe it’s a foreigner. Maybe it’s someone with a flexible mind. That rare echo—when it arrives—rings louder than the original word.
But now and then, the signal flickers. You respond—not with certainty, but with style. A single word: Bonjour. It’s not the word that matters, but the timing. You didn’t just answer—you altered the rhythm.
That first exchange—before we know each other, before masks settle—carries a strange weight. I don’t know what costume to wear; I don’t know yours either. We are raw, reflexive creatures caught in a moment of mutual decoding. Hands. Eyes. Gaze. Posture. Rhythm. Language waits. The body speaks first.
That first imprint—it holds longer than we expect. And sometimes, it’s the most accurate. Not the words we trade later, but the way our eyes choose to dance before the music starts.
And maybe that’s the most honest we’ll ever be.
Sometimes the most fluent conversations happen before anyone speaks.
I want to hear Bonjour! again... Not to unmask it, but to wear it differently.
Comments