The virtues of silence

  Once a week Marion organises in our living room her now-famous cocktail parties, intimate and elegant, to which she invites erudite academics, scientists, fashion designers, artists, and explorers. She writes the invitations on delicate paper, with black ink she makes herself from the ash of the rice she burns on the terrace to honour …

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An incomprehensible war scene

I went with Marion to the bank, to open a deposit account. The financial counsellor gave us a charming secretarial speech and Marion grew interested in him. After a while she ran away from me, leaving me alone and furious like that warrior without arms whom I once saw in an old Japanese print depicting …

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Peppermint tea

It was a cold, bright morning smelling like lily-of-the-valley. The spring equinox was approaching, with its invasion of foreign insects. We were drinking peppermint tea, with lots of sugar, and we were kissing, surrounded by transparent curtains and cushions wrapped in luxurious fabric. On the radio, the weather forecast for the following days was announcing …

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In my brains, a vast musical knowledge

We lie scattered on the side of the road, at some distance from each other, because we had a fight. A falcon is flying in circles up in the sky; in the distance, a rusty windmill will rotates slowly. I’m wearing cheap trainers and a vintage fur bolero, dyed in purple. I go back to …

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A florist with windy hair

I was sitting on the couch, wiping a silver ashtray with acetone. Marion was out for a drink with a philosophy professor she sincerely despised. “Why do you indulge him then?” I asked. “I am fascinated by his innocent brutality. He doesn’t have a clue about the real world, he’s very naive.” After I finished …

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