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See France. Ferment France. Eat France. I love France. I didn’t want to leave. French is the first language I tried to learn. I still know the lesson 2 dialogue of my 7th grade French class word-for-word. It’s been completely internalized, for decades. France has bread. France has peaches. France has beautiful cities and green marshes. It has slim chimneys and wrought-iron balconies. Its streets are named after ancient typographers. The French are into splendor. They are into vibrancy. If only I had truly learned French, I would move there. Maybe it is not too late.
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