Children of Paradise
wandering wandering, I lost. Finds less and less interested to come in Billancourt. It remains a malaise in this city that does not look like much. The marks disappear. Forced to go up or down the street from the old bridge of Sevres. Feel this way in it. Perhaps an early morning at sunrise, I go up this street included somewhere. Half in the plans, all in steps. The black bloc is and what it aspires me to take shelter in the 7, rue de Vanves. The door opens to the passage of an inhabitant of the third. She tells me that the apartment's grandmother is occupied by a young couple. I love free knowledge. The rent for a day or more. See empty without the imprint of new tenant. Find childlike vision intact. M'affaler in the room that served as living room and entry. The brighter. Imagine the sofa, the cardboard box and plastic cover where orange was collected toys. Plants near the window. Go into the kitchen and see what was going through the window near the sink where the grandmother was his toilet. The little cabin where the medicine cabinet was made of plastic. On the cabinet doors I hope Cross found the words of the greatest rock band, pop of the years 60-70: Pink Floyd, The Beatles, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin ... Designed and made by my father on a rainy Sunday. Back in the kitchen to open the cupboard and find our collection of glass mustard. I remember one: Darth Vader surrounded by soldiers of the Galactic Empire. Back across the living room / entrance to the dining room. Ceiling at an angle. The roof of the building is here accompanied by a small window and the end as polystyrene insulation that has left the imprint of many caps Crémant d'Alsace, brought or ordered from the winemaker of the family. Passed hand and feel under the new coat of white paint to lighten. At the back two doors. The right one's tiny, dark room and left the hut in which was piled all the past. It was a ritual at our Sunday meal: open the door, the only light bulb and delve into the windowless room. We should have warnings of the grandmother, not to make too many bazaars. Throughout, we heard the laughter of the adult world. Close the door, put a latch on the inside, close it behind you, hear the sounds out of sight until the bulb breaks and makes me remember, remember, do not forget anything before leaving for good times and revise the father, moving day, fill the bags out of sight of the grandmother. He must have known he could not finish the book and it was essential to provide avenues for pursuing it. To make sense of the rise Sunday, 7, rue de Vanves and all it implied.
An official attested by 12 months of exclusion function with 3 months suspended. 
