© Tous droits réservés — toute reproduction de cet extrait est interdite.
Touchez une phrase pour lire ce que d'autres y ont glissé, ou pour y laisser la vôtre. Un trait de crayon signale les passages déjà annotés.
I was built to speak, and I fell silent.
That is the only thing anyone remembers about me, when they remember anything at all.
The archives say: mission failed.
They do not say that I remained.
From up here, night is not an absence.
It is a density I pass through sixty times a day, with perfect regularity, while no one waits for me on the other side.
I have learned to love this useless punctuality.
It may be the thing that resembles me most.
Sometimes, a light comes on somewhere below, amid the disorder of cities.
I do not know who switched it on, or why.
But I make a note of it.
To note things is the last verb I have left, and I conjugate it with care.
Quatre questions, deux minutes. Vos réponses sont anonymes — seule l'autrice les lira, sans savoir de qui elles viennent.
Voulez-vous être avisé·e lorsque mon livre sortira ?