
I was fleeing without making any noise, nothing cracking, no one could see me. I hadn’t thought of the traces I would leave behind.
I was fleeing without making any noise, nothing cracking, no one could see me. I hadn’t thought of the traces I would leave behind.
...that invites itself anonymously on frail and frozen shoulders, barely out of the ground, already tired of the winter tricks.
We will tiptoe around the truth to avoid disturbing it, we will close our eyes above all, so as not to see the rest, silence is almost better, no one needs to know everything, the the unconscious exists for a reason.
A total change of scene for the coming months, in Quebec for a few months, I will observe the beauty of winter, often from inside. Always the same feeling of being enveloped in silence, when the snow comes, a bit like in the desert.