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  • 14 – The Intruder
    She too looked happy, relaxed. She was always dancing. It was like second nature to her. All it took was a little music to get her to at least move her head. She would dance to any kind of music. Sometimes she would jump around and seem to unload an overflow of energy. At other … Continue reading 14 – The Intruder
  • 13 – Her Name
    Her name was Jennifer. She quickly became an obsession. There was something magnetic about her, something indescribable. Every day I looked forward to the night. I needed to see her, to share a little of her daily life. I would sit on the opposite sidewalk. I would sit on a low stone wall and watch … Continue reading 13 – Her Name
  • 12 – She
    We wait, we hope, often in vain. And sometimes life plays one of those tricks you never expect. That night, I had already started the routine of returning to my small apartment in a peripheral neighborhood. I was feeling tired. I had put off, once again, the idea of suicide. I could never bring myself … Continue reading 12 – She
  • 11 – The Dreamed Life
    The more I went into these streets with well parked cars, the more I wanted to observe the daily life of people who lived different nights from mine. Sometimes I took advantage of the half-light to watch the life of others. Here parents were putting their young children to bed, there a couple was snuggling … Continue reading 11 – The Dreamed Life
  • 10 – Into the Night
    And I was walking, alone, in the middle of the deserted streets. I had acquired this habit. It wasn’t just a question of lack of sleep. The night always had this calming effect on me. There was almost no noise anymore. It was enough for me to avoid the city center, too animated for my … Continue reading 10 – Into the Night
  • 9 – The World After
    A few days had passed. The police had arrested a suspect. It was always the same story. It was a young man considered marginal with psychological problems, the ideal culprit. He could deny it all he wanted, but it was over. There was no evidence. A simple cluster of corroborating clues was enough to prove … Continue reading 9 – The World After
  • 8 – First Blood
    I repeated this ceremony several days in a row with always the same result. As time went by, I gained a little more confidence in myself. I was still nervous though. If the observation was childishly simple, the action seemed impossible. Yet I had to act. I hadn’t shaved for a few days. My appearance … Continue reading 8 – First Blood
  • 7 – The Warm Up
    Every evening, she took her dog out at dusk. It was a sort of mop on legs with as little gait as its owner. She held the leash in her left hand and an aluminum beer can in her right. She was listening to music and humming. It was the warm-up. It was also the … Continue reading 7 – The Warm Up
  • 6 – Céline Dion and Me
    I watched her. I listened to the tread of her heels over my head. She was there, all the time, casually. She had her habits. She didn’t work. She had a dog that she walked at regular times. She drank beer until she was drunk. When she reached a certain level, a certain amount of … Continue reading 6 – Céline Dion and Me
  • 5 – The Letting Go
    Although the murder of my cat was a determining element in what we can call: my evolution; that of my neighbor was the trigger. The psychological mechanism was the same. At the beginning, I was astonished. Today I say to myself that it was obvious. Impatience. The notions of patience and impatience are very volatile. … Continue reading 5 – The Letting Go
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