It was dark and I do not really know where it was. It looked like a festival, just the same kind as the Garden Nef Party, except that the site was directly integrated into the site itself. We were three. It was after a long period of isolation, stubble and dirty clothes, but it felt good. He seemed to rediscover all, he was touched by every detail of what we live, the drunk people around us, the guys on the side of the stage who smoked, all alone, the sun was setting and the cold that s' installation, how sassy she had painted her nails, holes in my sneakers. Everything. He was so changed that he hardly spoke. She went to fetch us beer, leaving me alone with him, I had not seen for so long. I knew the next day he was leaving, I knew it all. I knew this time would not know it when we see him again. He had two days of suspension, to say farewell to life, and it is with us he chose to pass. Eternal gratitude. We were both then, and I did not know what to say for fear of disturbing her back among the living. So I called him, then walked up and I took him in my arms. It lasted ten seconds, a minute or perhaps five, I do not know. I had my nose against his neck, his beard pricked me but it felt good. It was not cold, unlike me. Then it became moist, and me too. I asked him why he had done "it" and he did not answer. We just cried and it was enough for an answer. She arrived, interrupted our embrace and made me a thousand reproaches. "It is fragile, you know very well that you would not do that." No I did not know. I knew nothing, what to do or not do, I was just doing things by instinct. I was only assured that I shall never see him again. In the end, we decided to sleep under the stars. Each For its part, although his eyes he asked only one thing: not being alone.
Mood: Wounded.
RB: The Crystal Ship - The Doors.
Pic: Tibo Zissou
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