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208 pages, Paperback
First published April 7, 2016
The door opened and Bilodo appeared. When she saw the way he looked, Tania froze. He hadn’t shaved for months, and it had no doubt been just as long since a comb last touched the shaggy mane that fell to his shoulders. Bilodo had the complexion of a person buried alive, and dark circles surrounded his eyes. He was wearing a sort of red kimono. Tania felt as though she were standing before a stranger. The fresh, clean-shaven young postman, as straight as an arrow – where had he gone? How could he have transformed himself into this cave-dwelling hippie?
With a red carnation stuck in his buttonhole, Gaston Grandpré was lying on the flooded asphalt. It was just after the accident, in the steady downpour. The dying Grandpré fixed his eyes on Tania’s and spoke in an evanescent voice: ‘Swirling like water… against rugged rocks… time goes around and around…’
He came through the door every day at noon, impeccable in his postman's uniform. He was tall, rather thin and not exactly handsome, but his gentle eyes and timid smile made Tania go weak inside.
Having done some research on calligraphy, she'd draw up his bill in Unical, a script he seemed to favour, and sign it with a 'Tania' embellished with discreet flourishes.
She regretted not having died the first time she'd read that poem, at the moment of her most perfect happiness...
...Tania was overcome by a peculiar combination of bliss and anguish. It seemed to her that she could never be happier, and never more uneasy. So was that what it was like, true love?
“On the television, two penguins were pressing themselves together, surrounded by frozen infinitude, sheltering each other from the cold Antarctic wind.”
“Swirling like water
against rugged rocks,
time goes around and around”