Quelques extraits, comme ça.
Le choix [...] I note the crease at the corner of his lips as a smile retained. She looks at me intensely and without a word. What does she see? One day, long ago, she told me I had a look of drowning. She was referring to the clarity of my right eye, the green color of water that comes from my mother and I also sent my children. She forgot her left eye, brown as the mainland shoreline. I've never been a danger to her, I'm not sure she understood it. Between us
time passes slowly. I take a look at the big clock chrome lobby.
- A summit meeting?
- Nothing important before twenty minutes. Want to see the show, models R129 with me?
- I'm early for my appointment, so why not.
I lead, follow me to the back of the hall. I walk with long strides, Emmanuelle just follow me. I understand when I act like an idiot and I slowed. Before the first model I started my blabber, mechanically. How many times have I made this presentation? I do not even know. I really feel of being an old scratched vinyl. She goes out of her handbag a pair of goggles to the black frame. After having roads, Emma has a new air, serious and mischievous all at once, I had forgotten the bronze green of his eyes. We're looking at both the thumbnail, I showed him the details of the cockpit, she wears a perfume honeysuckle. Suddenly, she starts to ask questions of the chain, I try to respond to the same rhythm. Emma, vivacious, incredibly, it has always been like that. And then without warning, his eyes became vague. Where is she? A few years back? [...]
"Female turtles, crocodiles men" Publishing Blue On Black if Table of Andy Warhol J'émiette thick sand between my fingers, a sandy brown color of cane sugar. A shell catches my eye, white, streaked with black as a clever stroke. The surf of the sea, the seagulls, the smell of seaweed. But where would I find the mermaids?
The clouds parted on a blue sky and the sun warms my parka. I hesitate to remove it, I fear the cold terribly. Away my child plays. At the waterfront, at the edge. I take a photo with a white sailboat in the background, as a hope. Go, go away, beyond the horizon. That night I dreamed. A dream so real, it could be true. I slip my hand into the sand, let slip through my fingers. Thick, rough, hot. Comforting. Sebastian shouted suddenly, the sea has set his sneakers. I wave her hand to signify that it is unimportant. Finally, I withdraw my parka.
This morning at dawn, I started a new portrait. [...]
Collective "Around the black and blue" e conditions if one black blue Refuge I must not leave the room where I am, this large ice room at the back of a strange house. Caution is in order. Through the curtains, I guess a small walled garden où une herbe grasse s'affole sous les bourrasques hivernales. Dans un berceau, se trouve un bébé dont je ne sais ni le prénom ni l'âge. Pas plus de quelques mois. Heureusement, je n'ai pas d'enfant, autrement je n'aurais jamais pu entreprendre ce voyage, que dis-je, cette fuite. La peur m'aurait clouée sur place. Seule, j'ai pu choisir. Entre deux risques, j'ai pris celui de partir. [...]
Revue "Brèves", Anthologie permanente de la nouvelle, numéro 82