From the sound of my footsteps, all around, I understand that the space is small. I can’t see anything else, except for... a light streaming in the distance. Maybe this place is bigger than I thought.

As I get closer, I start to see little sparks coming out of some kind of... pipe mounted on the ground. It comes out of the floor, half a metre wide, bending at the level of my chest. Sparks are coming out like an open source and landing in my face. They make the sound of molten metal on the electrode of a welding machine, but it is cold. The light on my cheeks is cool

like the wind,
in the evening.


At the bottom, the glow becomes full and dense, but I can’t see what’s there.

I try to stick a hand in it, as the sparks pinch my skin and eyes.

It’s so cold that it burns my hand, which I retract instinctively, before I notice.

I run my index finger over my temple, looking, looking for something... my glasses. I, I wore glasses, yes. As I keep my eyes wide open on the ball of shimmering light, I remember them piece by piece: the dark frame, the scratch on the right lens after a trip to... the mountain, I think. It seems to me that the heart goes at the speed of the roaring gushes.

Then the light suddenly goes out, and I return to the darkness where I’d already got lost.

I keep my eyes open, touching my temple, my eyelids, the curve of my nose which seems so light to me.

From the blackness, then, I find the door again..