Back To Scratch

Stop! cries the rana. You haven't solved anything!

Quiet-tartus and the knowlesi can see that they haven't.

We should have been more methodical, says Quiet-tartus.

Crumpled paper now fills most of the space in the lunch box. There is just room for them.

This is like being in the clouds, says the knowlesi.

Clouds don't have poems, says the rana.

But sometimes they crackle, says Quiet-tartus.

Neither the rana nor the knowlesi can disprove this, so they must let it go.

Now what? asks the knowlesi.

When things have gone pear-shaped, says the rana, put them behind you and start again from scratch.

But what's scratch? says Quiet-tartus.

How it was, says the rana.

The papers were folded, says the knowlesi. But we didn't do it.

Ask Arthur or Pierre-Louis to do it, says the rana.

Easy to say.

But Arthur has his eyes closed and Pierre Louis is thinking of answers to pertinent questions that Vello might ask him, when they meet.

Furthermore, the frogs are obscured by crags and valleys of unfolded paper.

They can't see us, says the knowlesi.

Then we must improvise, says Quiet-tartus.

Yes, says the knowlesi. Improvise how?

We make our way to the highest peaks, says Quiet Tartus, and trample them down.

Simple.

They make their way upwards, until their heads touch the lid of the lunchbox.

They trample their way down.

Now there is space again in the lunch box.

The papers are flattened and creased into triangles and parallelograms, and other less well known shapes.

Some of the triangles and parallelograms (and less well known shapes) have words on them, some are blank.

You might call it a mashup.

We may as well sit on it, says the rana. You guys can sort it out in Paris.

It's the only solution.

The frogs must sit on the triangles and parallelograms (and other shapes) until Paris.

This is no fun, grumbles Quiet-tartus. Geometrical shapes pressing into our underparts.

Let's make it fun, says the knowlesi.

He stands up and presents his underparts to the other two. What is it, and what does it say?

It's a triangle, that says nothing, says Quiet-tartus.

Wrong! say the knowlesi. I was sitting on Saint Michael.

Aha! Now the other two get it.

You match up the shape with the word that you sat on.

It's tricky because some shapes are empty.

The game keeps the frogs occupied all the way to Gare Montparnasse, Paris