Holes Of Memoires (trous De Memoires
(Pierre Wattebled)
What time is it? Marcelle question herself. Usually she is raised for a long time. It is strange. The coffee is ebullient; I should have extinguished gas more yet. What's the problem? Coffee, the hour, you? What arrives to you my poor Marcelle so that you put yourself in such state? Ok, I do not have the Olympic form, these times. It is a fact?? A vibrating fly attires suddenly his attention. Without waiting, he seizes to it sleeve of the ?queer?, sweeps the air of a full gesture as one samurai. Annoyed Samurai. Upset: the noblest gestures are not always crowned by success; the fly, as if it had actuated the gas handle of its balloon flies away up to the ceiling: irremediably each one reached its limits. In fact, it is only one inoffensive insect. Admittedly aggravating. Then, I admit that I become grumpy: one nothing me exasperate. Marcel decides to forget the fly which must have a hard head to run up against the granulose rough coat of the ceiling with such constancy. The poor one. Something escapes to it, but he is the life, reality moves the beings with excess; plugged they do not have of cease to run up against the jails of their fears. Marcel set on one of the odd chairs of the kitchen and swallows with small gulps the coffee a little less hot. The fly is left there well. Finally, it will end up finding the solution: the instinct of survival is essential on the beings, early or late, it marries the features of wisdom. Marcel is appropriate about himself, in this moment, is posed questions. His small internal clock, concerned, panics, questioned: ?How will come I to manage his age and the time which remains to him?? Marcel thinks that it is ?humanly impossible mission, there are too many unknown factors in this equation? And suddenly Marcel becomes aware that he is afraid. Yes, fear of being afraid. He, the believing, doubt while it settles in a morbid thought. The question, still: will be I enough strong to maintain until the end the flame of my faith? It is my money? the faith helped me so much, why it has suddenly been lacking to me. My problem is the stress. Olivier causes me so much concern. Of the trailing steps rhythms by the clashes of the wander on the ground reaches him. She is her. It is out of questioned which it shares his fears with her. Together, they had their black bread share. Then they auto protected alive coast at coast, a hermetic relation which would have only appearance of it: their glance endeavors to be impenetrable. However Marcel, very enthusiast of sound, prepares his breakfast to him. To follow.
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