

nulle part He fell, and his world fell with him.nulle part by ~jpwalsh
He stood in line to formulate a complaint. He cant stop blinking, and the sweat still rests on his forehead.
Stop moving your head. Dont look around, keep your eyes fixed. Stop swallowing. Purse your lips. Little, superficial breaths. And keep your eyes fixed.
Hes patting his pockets. Something important is still there, and hes smiling coyly. His long coat gives him a suspicious air. Someone is making a sign toward the teller. Yes is the sign that comes back with a nod of the head.
The man in front of me makes a similar sign, and I am worried now. Someone i


toujours au seuil toujours au seuil d'une nouvelle penséetoujours au seuil by ~jpwalsh
***
I stood. And so did she. She wore sunglasses for a reason, and I couldn't help but to twist my head, and turn my eyes downward.
This was not a love story, and it never would be. Ours was a connection wrapped in a blanket of discontent, inexperience and perceived betrayal.
Betrayal on what count, I wonder. Her smile seems genuine, but there remains a general apologetic air that feels uncomfortable.
"I don't think this is working…for either of us."
This seems like one of those clichéd moments that should be hard, but it isn't. It's not even one that I had to think long and hard ab


tout en recusant ces mains Tout en récusant ces mainstout en recusant ces mains by ~jpwalsh
Personnages :
PYON
Scène :
Silence. Une pomme rouge est posée sur une table au milieu d'une salle vide. Il y a une pendule sur le mur qui n'a que l'aiguille des secondes. Entre PYON. Il regarde à droite.
PYON :
Hé...
Silence. Il regarde à gauche.
PYON :
Y'a quelqu'un ?
Silence.
Un temps.
Il regarde autour de la salle. Il voit la pendule, puis essaie de vérifier l'heure de sa montre. Il la regarde de nouveau et remarque qu'il n'y a que l'aiguille des secondes. Il a l'air confondu, un peu frustré.
Un temps.
Il remarque la pomme et s'approche.
Juste avant de la sa
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