Rolade Berthier

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2021

Stories (5)

5 Stories

137 karma pts

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“Helen, me, and our false friends” by Rolade Berthier

Submitted to Contest #177

That can't be her. She takes the train to work. Helen sprints as soon as she sees me and kisses me on the right cheek and then on the left. "Grève, there's no train". She means "strike". Last night, a union representative wearing an orange vest and a hard hat answered a local television journalist's questions about their decision not to work today and at the weekend. Picketing is the French railroad workers' favourite sport; they are the world's champions.Unlike during the pre-COVID pan...

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“Where do I come from? You tell me!” by Rolade Berthier

Submitted to Contest #164

Where do I come from? You tell me!“Where I come from” is a phrase that gives me goose pimples. I have answered the question “Where do you really come from” more than a hundred times, and I expect to encounter the same query any moment. Do they mean where I was born, where I have studied, worked and lived, where I have immigrated, or where I feel I belong? The local m...

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“Tongues wagging over Freggy” by Rolade Berthier

Submitted to Contest #131

The jacaranda trees were blooming with their purple flowers, and the University of Queensland campus was bustling with students. Lea had just moved into a multicultural college, known as International House, and there was already a knock on the door of her room, which was on the second floor of G-Tower. She turned around but continued getting out jeans and personal belongings from her 20-kilogram brown suitcase that still had a Qantas etiquette. There was another knock, followed by another one."Hi, I'm Chen. W...

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“He had her in his hands” by Rolade Berthier

Submitted to Contest #102

I was angry as a raging bull for many years because what I called sin seemed an experiment to him.I cannot remember much about my life when I was a toddler except what my parents and relatives have narrated for amusement to embarrass me. A family story is that at age two, I used to sit on a stool outside our grocery store waiting for the wife of my dad's cousin, Dekin, to pass by so that I could yell, "That's a beautiful lady". Every Saturday morning, on her way to the bakery, I followed her for several centimetres ...

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“Her husband, my father” by Rolade Berthier

Submitted to Contest #102

I cannot remember much about my life when I was a toddler except what my parents and relatives have narrated for amusement to embarrass me. A family story is that at age two, I used to sit on a stool outside our grocery store waiting for the wife of my dad's cousin, Dekin, to pass by so that I could yell, "That's a beautiful lady". Every Saturday morning, on her way to the bakery, I followed her for several centimetres imitating the swaying of her hands and hips to the giggles of onlookers."No birthday pa...

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Author bio

Dr Rolade Brizuela Berthier enjoys listening, reading and storytelling. She lives in France and is a freelance English language teacher in Luxembourg. She has worked in Asia, Australia and Europe for universities, research institutions, government departments, and non-profit organisations. She has Master of Social Planning & Development and Doctor of Philosophy (Sociology) degrees from The University of Queensland, Australia; French Language Certificate from Sorbonne University in Paris; is currently learning Spanish. She owns www.roladesocietalblog.com, which discusses cultural, economic, political & social issues and is active on Facebook, Linkedin and Twitter. She is the author of “The Whisper of Regrets”, a novel about contemporary challenges in relationships, and non-fiction books: “Journey to the World of Public Service Employment,” “Cross-Cultural Liaison: An Inconvenient Love”, and “Intelligence, Giftedness: Pre-cradle to Post-grave”. “After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.” -Phillip Pullman