I'm lying on my sofa, listening to Wallen's voice singing poignant lyrics to melodies that have accompanied me for years. These words that stick so closely to my skin, that touch my very soul.... The heat is overwhelming in this summer of two thousand and twenty-two.
I get up to quench my thirst
large glass of cool water. Through the open window I hear laughter
of children come up to me. I lean over and watch little boys and girls happily playing. One of them caught my attention...
Her black hair is very long and
already reaching his lower back. How old is she ? Five, six years? Maybe seven...
She is so pretty with her angelic face and her carefree nature which makes her sunny. This little girl
looks like me, I was exactly like her a few years ago. This kid that I don't know, who was playing at the bottom of my Parisian building, will be a real trigger for me.
I got up to go to my office. I absolutely had to write, to pass on my story, to bear witness to the hell I had experienced.
For this little girl and for all those who risk one day being confronted with a real scourge of society...