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JanPrisonniers ·8· [micro-récits de la pléiade]
YOU ARE IN: Breviloquia
M. X n'aime pas écrire. S'il le faisait auparavant, ce n'était que pour écrire des lettres d'amour. Pas tout-à-fait d'amour, à vrai dire. D'attente, plutôt: "Attends-moi. Attends mon retour. Je ne sais quand. Mais oui, je te prie de m'attendre." Il craignait qu'elle finissait -comme elle l'avait promis- dans un couvent. Quand, à la fin de la journée, et après avoir passé les heures accroché à la mitrailleuse, il se reposait dans les tranchées, il dessinait des cartes à la pierre noire et les envoyait à 'arrière-garde.
Last updated
on Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008 at 5:05 am, and archived in Breviloquia ::
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