[Bedtime Stories]

Par The Guide. Si, si, vous les avez sûrement remarqué ces commentaires un peu étranges de mon guide Londonien. Non content d’être un homme très sympathique, il écrit aussi bien qu’il fait découvrir la capitale, autant dire tout un programme. Et ceci n’est qu’une esquisse de ce au j’ai pu lire… Affaire à suivre. Aidez moi à le convaincre en appuyant de critiques cet extrait et pour sûr vous serez gâtés !

They entered silently the restaurant. They haven’t spoken a word since they woke up an hour ago and the thickness of the air between the two of them would be sensed by whoever would approach them too closely. The waiter indicated them a table and they sat down. The table that separated them was very small, but in spite of the physical closeness of their two bodies, it felt like they were an ocean apart. What felt so right the night before, felt so wrong in the morning’s light. She couldn’t look up, not just yet. Instead she let her eyes wandered across the small prints of the menu and tirelessly, they were scanning one by one the combination of letters, but her mind refused to reconstruct any of them. Instead her thoughts were heading to the ocean where their two ships met. She was absolutely certain they were going in the same direction, and would float on those endless waves, side by side, to some wonderful island. That was until a few hours ago when they decided to set anchors on the same spots. Then, she could feel how breathtaking it was to feel the breeze on her face when she was not racing to reach the horizon line’s vanishing point.

… However when she woke up this morning, she realised that her anchor was not heavy enough. During the night, the ship drifted away and it was on his own again. The other ship was gone and she knew what it meant.
The waiter came over to take the order and she also knew she wouldn’t be able to use the menu as a shield for long.

She put the menu down, raised her eyes and gave a gentle smile to the waiter. He was very young she told herself, probably a student with a weekend job. She ordered a coffee but decline his suggestion to have food. She knew she would not be able to swallow it, but she was also aware that the coffee will hurt her stomach. She was not obliged to drink it after all. He could lay there in front of herself, losing itself in the midst of that ocean. How far the captain of the other ship could have been in her mind, she could still hear him taking his order. The idea that all his food will be laying in front of her made her nauseous. She wanted to run away, using that good excuse, but it was just an easy escape.

Now that the waiter walked away with her shield, her thin protection from the one she was dreading to speak to, she knew she had no other choices but to face the Captain. She took a deep breath, while wishing that none of this was happening. To her own, disbelief, the ship she thought she had drifted away from during the night was effectively standing right in front of her. Was all her thoughts a bundle of illusion and girlish fantasy or was it ghost coming back from the abyss to haunt and hunt her. She could not delay the fight any longer.

I think I’m not the right kind of girl for you, she said.

He raised his eyes towards her, puzzled. Maybe he did not hear her well, she thought instantly but her mind was quickly overtaken that the stream of words that came out of her mouth. She did not control any of them, they appeared from nowhere, but that was an obvious attack on the other ship. She had to get ready for retaliation.
Who says? The captain’s replied.

I say, she carried on.

Since when do you think you can tell what is good or not for me? He enquired.

That was his bomb, and she felt the full blast in her side. He was right, she realised that her statement was very selfish. She was concerned more about her own feelings even if she was not sure how she felt. There was no way back, that was for sure. Much to her consternation, no other uncontrollable words came out of her mouth. She studied his face for a couple of minutes. His eyes were enquiring hers. He was probably expecting her to strike back. Yes, The Captain had handsome features. Yes, she enjoyed his firm lips when he pressed them against hers hours ago. Yes, she liked her stubble brushing sensitive areas of her skin. Yes, and yes again, she liked every seconds of the ride he offered her to take on his boat, save for that was her feeling yesterday. The exhilaration evaporated at the same time than the morning’s mist. What did she achieve by sleeping with him she wondered for a spilt second before her stream of thought was interrupted by the waiter? He placed the mugs and plates on the table before sailing back to meet other ships.

[To be continued…]

   Nan juste légèrement électrique.. Hum.. Félicitations aux sites qui ont décidés de prendre les couleurs de circonstances pour l’ordre du jour, il s’agit bien sûr d’Halloween (prononcé “Allo-weine” par ma tendre mère, ce qui m’a toujours fait gloussé durant ma plus tendre enfance. bref..)

   Entre autre saluons la prestation de Le Voix ! Le bonhomme a osé révéler le terrible secret des jumeaux dans un effort artistique que je me dois de saluer; il a pensé à demander l’autorisation et tout et tout, si, si, c’est vrai ! Bravo Mister Le Voix ! [voir l’article]

   Que dire de la fête de ce côté là de la Manche ? Outre la sauterie prévue demain soir sur le campus, je dois avouer qu’il y a de loin une plus grande célébration de la chose non pour l’argent que cela crée, mais surtout pour la commémoration d’une tradition ancestrale (en effet Halloween n’est pas Américain, mais un héritage des Celtes qui s’est ensuite mélangé aux traditions Romaines donnant le déguisement par les Romains et le symbole de nourriture laissé sur le pas de la porte par les Celtes; non non je n’ai pas passé la journée à faire un cours sur le sujet..) Quoiqu’il en soit ici on célèbre vraiment les choses à coup de concours d’épouvantails et de citrouilles un peu partout, on se déguise ou non mais pour sûr on ne rate pas l’occasion de se beurrer à la pinte .. Demain j’adopte le look The Crow, pas compliqué pour moi, un peu de talc partout pour blanchir et du crayon pour me peinturlurer la figure. J’espère juste faire les bonnes émules héhé.. Ahem.

Sinon à l’ordre du jour cette article a été écrit depuis mon MacBook et vous devez sentir mon euphorie dans ce long texte décousu. oui j’ai enfin, ENFIN internet ! Alors bon, ici ils sont pas trop encore Box illimité et tutti fruti; pour ma part, une bonne bande passante et 3GB de données par mois, ce qui donne 100MB par jour environ; le tout en passant par le BlueTooth du beau Nokia tout neuf, raisonnable n’est ce pas. Je pourrai presque me télécharger un film ou quelques mp3 en me rationnant ! Allez, on célèbre, Champagne !!

Non content d’adopter la tendance actuelle, l’homo-erectus lambda adopte aussi les moeurs et les tics langagiers de son groupe de pairs. Qu’en est il du réseau social, de son prestige, lorsqu’il est question de vie privée, de coucherie meme ?

   Au demeurant, les amis et amants ne font que rarement bon ménages. Les premiers nous glorifient évidemment (ce ne sont pas des amis sinon !), les seconds on ne les assume pas, on les cache, le petit coup vite fait que tacitement on se promet de ne révéler a personne… jusqu’a la prochaine cuite qui nous fera lâcher le morceau presque par inadvertance et plus pour craner auprès des copines. Parce que la intervient la deuxième tendance, celle de la crânerie: “J’ai couché avec Machin, mais tu le dis pas hein, c’est entre nous.” Pas d’erreur, en faisant cela chacun sait pertinemment que quelques semaines plus tard tout le monde est au courant ! L’avouer a une personne c’est le dire a toute. La seule donnée qui varie dans l’équation est la rapidité de propagation du secret de polichinelle. De la crânerie donc. Les amants sont un pouvoir a double tranchant. Ils peuvent permettent la valorisation: qui n’a jamais entendu parler de ce gars que tout le monde envie et admire parce qu’il s’est tapé Untel ? A contrario, cela peut être aussi source de dégringolade; vous connaissez tous quelqu’un dont tout le monde s’est moqué parce qu’il s’est fait le moche de service. Merci les casseroles aux fesses ad-vitam !

Il est un peu dingue de voir sur quoi peut reposer, entre autre bien  sur, le prestige de certains, et certaines. Couchez utiles mes amis, est ce la morale a en tirer ? Quelle horreur ! Une horreur hélas bien réelle pour beaucoup. La vraie réflexion est: avec du recul, ai-je couché utile ? Ne vous regardez pas trop dans ce miroir, cela peut faire mal…

ps oui il y a des coquilles et plein de a sans accents, désolé, clavier anglais.