Personal Shopper (2016)

Wildfire Movies

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Starring: Kristen Stewart, Lars Eidinger, Sigrid Bouaziz

Director: Olivier Assayas

What an enigmatic little film.

Kristen Stewart stars as Maureen, a young woman who works as a personal shopper and who refuses to leave Paris since her twin brother died. She believes that he’ll get a message to her from the other side, as they both had some gifts as psychic mediums, but she’s still waiting. Her boyfriend wants her to move on, and she really dislikes her wealthy and famous boss in Paris, but she just feels that she can’t go until she has some kind of sign.

She returns to the house her brother and his girlfriend lived in and talks to her boyfriend in the US on the phone, and all the while she senses a dark presence but nothing solid. Until she starts to get mysterious text messages. What’s really going on? Is she…

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The Turnaround Day

The beauty of the roses was so evident from their display in the store, their petals lax and flexible; stems curving as if they were begging for a touch, that I could not resist the temptation to buy them. As if cradling a baby, I carried the pot to my old Volkswagen car. From my collection of winter Jackets and scarves that spread disorderly in the bonnet, I made a blanket for the pot and carefully placed it on it. This I made to take care of the pot in case it fell. I then drove home to find the best spot for my roses.

I had been in the house for only a week and had not done much as far as the renovation of the garden is concerned. I had spent most of my savings on painting the walls, fixing the broken windows and replacing the locks of all the doors. These had left me so broke that employing a casual worker to do the flower garden would have made me go without food for some days since it was a week away from month end. Therefore, I had to do the gardening myself.

The garden had a lot of overgrown grass that made it look like the savanna grassland. To me, it appeared as if the yard had not been touched for more than a year. I was faced with weedy flower beds and bushy side plants that were sprouting to clear. This made the lawn appear unattractive and with no sign of life.

I found a perfect spot at the back of the house, where I could be seeing the roses from my bedroom and the kitchen and started the digging exercise. The exercise was so slow and annoying since the only tool I had was a shovel. Kneeling, I attacked the ground with the spade. I expected the task of shove-lifting the roots to be an easy one. But instead, the shovel was stopped by the roots, and I had to lean my whole weight on the handle so that I could push the shovel below the roots. Wedging the shovel beneath, I started pulling up, spewing dirt around the shovel like lava from an active volcano. This effort made my arm ache with pain and the shovel squeak. Finally, the shovel came up.

But the roots of the plants stood firm on the ground, although a little tilted. What is it that made the shoveling so hard? I wondered. Brushing away the clumps of dirt from the shovel as I felt it with my fingertips, I made a rough inspection of the content. I transferred a hard as rock content from the shovel and placed it on my arm. My arm sank from the weight. Wiping it clean made me suspect its preciousness from its yellowish, shiny color. I bit it with my teeth and confirmed my suspicion.
It was gold.