She would always sleep with her husband and with another man in the course of the same day, and then the rest of the day, for whatever was left to her of that day, she would exploit by incanting, "French film, French film." Amy Hempel

This recitation assured the housewife's autonomy by virtue of concealment, for can it not be argued that an omnipotent God has more important matters at large than liberating the lost soul of an unstable woman whose mantra reveals a curious interest in an idyllic language and moving pictures? And can it not also be said that the woman was, indeed, crafty in casting her magical spell over Him with this clever device and unadulterated desire to suspend His judgment until Judgment Day?

In fact, the soul of the woman in question had already been claimed by the unequivocal love of her husband. Her deceit, unlike her home, defines her. Her deceit, unlike her dusty bedskirt, is worn proudly. Her deceit, unlike her thighs, is perfection personified.

Thus, she will always carry her secret with her for the course of her life, and when Death finally summons her soul on the last day, for whatever is left of her soul on that last day, she will exploit by incanting, "French film, French film."