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Page 1 - At Max...
1 - At Max Lalame... I play poker. This activity is not extraordinary but you will share the excitement of a player subjected to the whims of chance. Max loves strong adrenaline rushes. To find thrills he rides a motorcycle powerful. He has undoubtedly gone too far in his search for risk.
A sofa that turns into a bed, a refrigerator, a table and a few chairs, objects that seem to occupy an incongruous place in rooms that have a vocation for emptiness. In one afternoon, I had acquired this functional and impersonal furniture. At the time, it didn't take me a week to rent an apartment and settle in. Here is my daily life: sullen empty and overwhelmed with grief. It's six o'clock. I couldn't wait to get home, but barely took a few steps into the apartment when I already feel oppressed by the prospect of a gloomy and joyless evening, yet I am not without means. to distract myself and I have a whole panoply of record books and movies. No one will come to contradict my choices. I could just as easily take the file that is still open on my desk, but it's the same scenario every night. I slip a few leaves into my napkin before leaving the Escale café, the place where I like to write, but I know that once I get home I won't take them back. Each evening the same gestures are repeated. When the apartment door slams shut behind me, I drop the towel in the hall, promising to come back and get it. Most often, the towel stays in its place until the next morning. It is perhaps only to make this gesture that I return every evening in this apartment. The abandonment of the towel in the hall marks my desertion from the working world. Moreover, the two worlds are entirely separate. The links that I maintain with those around me are governed by two simple rules. According to the first a minimum of friendliness is necessary, but according to the second it is not possible to maintain friendships with people who might be interested in my work. Whoever employs me is supposed to know how to write. An endless corridor which in the last hours will be worth the fate of having been surveyed for so long. I spend most of my time there.
2 - Living room... The living room is devoted to the islands and on the coffee table there is a whole file on a travel project. The living room is embellished with burgundy hangings and gilding. The big winks, the sentimentality, the exhibitionism, the muffling and the asserted stupidity of the small screen, I practice it on a daily basis. I know the insidious and comfortable trap will soon absorb me, when I have a last start, a deep movement of revolt which comes up against this thick wall, this united choir which sings glory to stupidity. A timid current reaches a neuron and a complex mechanism is set in motion. It results in pressure from my index on a button on the remote control. For now, the beast has ceased to harm and I am focusing on the second step. Slight projection of the bust forward, support on the heels and strong push of my two arms to accompany the movement. I pass from the slouching viewer station to the much nobler standing of the man.
3 - Kitchen... It's a place that I don't usually frequent enough to feed myself. I have my habits at Cafe Escale. Here the most used tool is the can opener. I equipped myself with an electric box opener thanks to which I can achieve speed records in preparing my meals. The equipment is rudimentary. Some stools and furniture without originality, I am waiting for these questions to fascinate to complete my team.
4 - Bathroom... It's perfectly clean and sparkling white. To give an originality to this place seems to me devoid of common sense.
Nothing to report except a large number of pharmaceuticals in the medicine cabinet. The dates indicate that these products are all expired.
5 - Bedroom... The right door at the entrance to the hall leads to a bedroom. It has a double bed. The contents of the drawers are classic: aspirin tube, condoms, cough drops and kleenex. The curtains remained drawn. The room looks clean. If there is dust it is obscured by the thickness of the carpet.
6 - Office... A computer is on the desk. It is a completely obsolete model like its contents.
7 - Someone is ringing... Max is living the first days of his new life as a loner and he feels extremely isolated. He is done with life as a couple and has started to organize his new life. To fill his solitude he went to find on the canvas the model that seems to meet his needs.
We ring. It's her ? He opens it and sees a gentleman in a suit and tie. He must have a disappointed look. His visitor looks solemn and Max understands that now is not the time to be smart.
- O.M.P. services
The Organization for the Moderation of Pollution at Source is well known. Max has archived a number of formal notices with this heading  in the drawers. There are also all these files without his computer. No definitely this is not the time to to be clever. With a broad gesture he signed to this gentleman to take the trouble to enter. Now that he's comfortable in my living room, they'll get down to business.
- Can you give me a few moments?
The question is rhetorical, it seems obvious that refusing the interview could trigger a series of repressive actions.
- Do you know why I came to see you?
- I suspect it a little. I have received various letters. However, I don't really see anything that could pose a problem.
In fact, when an O.M.P. moves, it's good that there is a problem. Moderation of Pollution at Source is not cheap. Implementation of a prevention policy, application of the precautionary principle, our leaders had the wisdom to opt for a dissuasive method: the M.P.S. Moderation of Pollution at the Source. To the source ! They are not lacking in humor! Obviously all the problems come from there. A moment of bewilderment and everything is inexorably linked. Any birth leads to an increase in the carbon footprint and with three children declared Max knows that his liabilities have been precisely calculated. So this gentleman is here for that.
8 - Readjustment... He is well seated and Max feels that he is there for a while. The aure takes a file from his briefcase and he fixes it with a look of compassion.
- Believe that I am sorry sir, but I believe that you do not really realize the gravity of the situation. My unit usually operates without moving its agents. If I am here with you, it is because your case is serious. You state that you have three in your liabilities, but in reality there are more. We will therefore have to adjust your contribution. However our administration is ready to make some concessions if you are more cooperative. than you have been until now. I am mandated to grant you a 10% reduction if you accept a readjustment of your liabilities.
- And how much is this readjustment?
- Four. We have examined your Personalized Carbon Footprint and your MPS should go from 3 to 4. If you agree, please sign this document.
Max understands that there is nothing to do. He signs. After all he is doing well, because with DNA research it is difficult to escape them. but they are not that strong, there are still 2 or 3 things they don't know. Or else they do pretending not to know. They prefer to spare the taxpayer. Anyway, going from 3 to 4 will hurt. The O.M.P official takes his leave and Max is relieved.
9 - Someone is ringing... Someone rings again and this time it's the one he's waiting for. He invites her to take a break in the living room.
10 - A ritual... Time for a drink. He directs her to the bedroom.
11 - Disclaimer... As Max has an excellent knowledge of the practice of bondage, she is perfectly tied in two steps three movements. He is in action and he will come to interpretation of a figure he loves, although she is condemned by the church when:
- Stop, this is not going at all! If you want to do it like that you have to sign a waiver for me and you have to provide me with a medical certificate!
Max thinks a little late that he should have bayed her.
- A discharge ? A medical certificate?
- There have already been accidents with a practice of this type, colleagues have had problems with clients who have had cardiac arrests. Since then it is very regulated and we have to sign an agreement. I'm sorry but I have to sign and for the instant you must untie my hands.
Max understands, but he is discouraged in advance at the prospect of undoing his work. However, he cannot abandon this phase of his project.
12 - Wrong in writing... Max makes a forgery in writing. It imitates the signature of Antoine Berthelot.
13 - Bedroom... Such a waste ! With these certificate stories he is no longer really in the game. It's not his fault. She is perfectly bodied and she organizes her work to perfection. The problem is that he is no longer very involved. After these O.M.P. stories and M.P.S. it looks like they gave each other the word to break the mood. Everyone applies to fulfill a function, there is no longer any fantasy. So Max files without conviction.
14 - Hygiene... Lily loves her job. First imperative hygiene. It is for her client but it is also for herself. Then there is the issue of risk taking. They don't realize. Sometimes she sees some who are on the edge of the infractus.
15 - Taking leave... Lily makes sure to leave the catalog with her business card. Max greets respectfully.
16 - Other defects... Alcohol
Page 2 - By Georges...
1 - The cafe is at the end of the street... The cafe is at the end of the street. It has become my annex, my wild card when I don't feel like going to the stove to cook my dinner. With Alice we are rather cold lately, our romantic dinners are scarce, there is a mechanism which fell into place. Usually it starts off pretty well. As I know there is a problem, I try hard and sometimes arrive with my bouquet of flowers in my hand. It's a waste of time, it gets out of hand more or less quickly.
According to Alice I am immature. The problem is simple: Alice wants a child and I don't. It’s a taboo subject but it’s stronger than me, I always come to bring up this subject as I am convinced that I am right in my choices. Of course does that I become a father will not change the state of the world, but it is with me a deep conviction: the earth is too populated.
It inevitably turns sour. Our dinners end in anger. For years dinner had been a prelude she knows how to organize beautifully and usually, with just the last bite swallowed, we went to bed. Today we meet again still out of habit, but discord hangs over.
And then I avoid bringing up another reason that makes me refuse to become a father. In fact, the only thing that obsesses me is a new motorcycle. With this one I will be able to go even faster, with a crazy cornering in the turns, an engine that climbs into high revs and powerful brakes. What happiness! It's not cheap, but I can buy it. On the other hand, if we have to add the prices of the cradle and the layette, I will not be able to keep my budget. Obviously I keep myself well to make that argument to Alice, I know it would cause a cataclysm.
Since our meetings have spaced out I have been trying to escape the gloomy evenings. I go and take refuge at the cafe at the end of the street. "Chez Georges" is my refuge, my second family.
His first name is Georges, but customers call him Greg, they find it more trendy. There is a ritual at Georges. When a customer comes home he wipes the zinc with a sponge. It is mandatory.
2 - Beg... Coming to the bar without a penny is not something to do but there is always a friend to lend me a penny.
3 - A predilection... Max has a predilection for whiskey. It is served in a glass that bears his name. Normal for a good customer!
4 - A detour through the bar... Action ?
5 - One glass... You can't hold the alcohol and you're going to be sick. You better stop right away! Of course it's you who decides, what I say is for your own good. It is better that you stop when there is still time.
6 - Two glasses... The first drink is never enough. According to an argument that seems to make sense, we are walking on two legs. According to a point of view shared by a large population of drinkers, the second glass will therefore make it possible to achieve a form balance. The number invites us to look to other horizons, because starting from two we will be able to envisage new perspectives: two is a beginning for many. A second glass is drunk. The couple is formed. On the other hand the second will never be the first, he is held back in a row which subordinates him to the first. The second glass has an ambiguous status because if it is not the first, it runs the risk of being also the last. Moreover the second can evoke a frustration, that of the eternal second cyclist who never reaches the level of his rival who always surpasses him. Faced with the leader, he is always the challenger. To the point of view performance, the two are not really the weight. It is therefore necessary to go beyond a stage which is ultimately mediocre enough to truly enter the domain of the multiple. If this second glass seems in good agreement with the first, the formation of a couple carries with it an overtaking. From their formation, the couple carries with them the potential to generate a new element. The story of an uninteresting couple can find new life with the addition of a new element. This second glass seems to us naturally lead to a third.
7 - Three glasses... One drink is fine, two glasses are fine, three glasses hello damage! Three glasses a day or three glasses an hour? A glass as an aperitif, another to accompany a good meat and of course a glass to accompany the cheese. There is no doubt there something that looks like wisdom. Obviously there at the counter, three glasses swallowed one after the other that would not be reasonable. Stop the fire! Do not drink this third! §The one god cannot resist a process of cell division and he fragments into three entities which are the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. It is stability. Two presupposes an exercise of the will to preserve a balance. The tripod allows the balance without any effort. With the number three we can consider a lasting balance and reinforce it through different combinations. There are great classics: the wife, the husband and the lover, a combination likely to be registered in the long term, just like the wife, the husband and the mistress. With the number three, the torque is exceeded by the intervention of an external element and an alternative is offered to the bipolarity as the third way is offered to resolve a conflict between two positions. It is a first approach intended to circumvent the confrontation of two opposing ideas. Should we stay at a stage which made it possible to obtain a first balance or should we go further? In his search for the truth, he cannot stop in such a good way.
8 - Four glasses... The fourth glass is still only a project in the making when it arrives in a majestic beat of wings. He made a landing of great elegance. No need to ask him who sent it. Obviously he is an envoy of the great boss. - No more than three drinks!
- This fourth glass I had hardly considered!
- Enough! You thought so strongly that the boss sent me to tell you: zero tolerance.
No need to argue, he knows full well that the boss's orders are not discussed. Yet with four glasses we enter an interesting dimension. The number evokes a seat, that of the seat on which the drinker is seated. He begins to understand better a world made up of the four elements of earth, water, air and fire. However, Martin considers water to be of little interest. From the fourth glass he joins the circle of initiates. He is the High Priest in spheres esoteric. He presides over the realization of the mysteries. He wonders about the existence of a fifth element, the one that will allow him to better understand the cosmos. He is still at the stage of conviviality and he wonders: Can he go beyond this stage?
9 - Five glasses... Five drinks and we'll stop there. She does not have to drink them to suspect that it could affect her effectiveness. A lower dose will be sufficient to motivate him, but beyond that he tends to doze off. Five glasses. Five good drinks filled which he emptied methodically. Five on five. He thus celebrates a Fibonacci number, the sum of two and three and the third prime number after two and three. This fifth glass is a celebration of the five senses. The bottle tinted against the glass to celebrate hearing. He lifted the glass to appreciate the color of the brew and to celebrate the look. And then his lips appreciated the temperature of the beverage for the entry into the scene of touch. Finally the fifth sense was able to express itself with all its nuances to allow it to appreciate the taste. §Can it reasonably stop there and not wonder about the existence of new sensations to go even further?
10 - Seven glasses... We get to six or beyond you don't know. He has little to say about the number six. On the other hand, seven evokes a rose with seven petals. These are the seven rays of the Statue of Liberty which symbolize the seven seas and continents. As there are seven wonders of the world, seven is unavoidable, it never goes beyond. Lust, avarice, envy, pride, laziness, gluttony and anger, they are seven deadly sins. He will drink a seventh glass to ward off the sixth, but he never goes beyond it. Well in what state! Poor you can't imagine the state of your liver. Of course you decide, but I worry all the same! §Eight glasses is certainly too much. Seven was enough, that made one for each day of the week. he is unreasonable to go beyond that; he has now absorbed the precise number of glasses that are suitable for the proper functioning of his mental mechanisms. He will continue his efforts. He can now push the door to exit the bar.
It's time to play some poker.
Page 3 - Alice and Olga...
1 - About Alice... Work in progress
2 - About Olga... Work in progress
Page 4 - An accident...
1 - Limbo... He made a sharp right turn as I was accelerating. It's something that I like. I let them slip ahead. They've barely walked a hundred yards and they're starting to think of themselves as champions with their ridiculous cars and that's as I pass them and they barely have time to see me go by. They feel like they are standing still.
I was in full acceleration when I saw him pounding to turn right. I saw his car grow bigger and become an obstacle. I realized that my front wheel had exploded on its right rear fender the instant I hovered. for a short time I gazed at the sky. I crossed limbo before the hard contact with the ground, and then angel without wings, I came to collapse in this immaculate white bed. This morning I am not feeling very well. I feel like I no longer have body. Yesterday I was in pain all over.
Today I no longer feel any pain and I am anxious instead of being appeased. My eyes allow me to see the walls of the room, on the other hand it is impossible for me to see my chest, nor my limbs that I cannot even manage to stir. And are this body and these limbs still there? After all, my head is the only thing I can still count on. But for the rest ? My chest, arms, and legs might as well be gone. No, it cannot be not. My head cannot function on its own. Its functioning requires the collaboration of the rest of my body. I still have a body because I find my head is working pretty well. I have a body for sure! Yes, but in what condition?
A face haloed with blond hair smiles at me. He is a being of boundless goodness who led me to the door of his world. She held me by the hand to accompany me for a while, while I floated in a clear sky, detached from the harsh earthly realities. In his company I have crossed a world ignorant of the obligations of daily survival. I still linger on the threshold of reality. Difficult to say the moment when one passes to a conscious state. What really wakes me up is a pain in the arm. And then there's this weird smell that hurts my head. Logic is respected, if I have pain all over it is because I am in a hospital bed. I hear footsteps in the hallway. A bright white ceiling lit clears my fog, there must be some problem. It wasn't just the noises, the sights and the smells that warned me, I tried to move an arm, but it remained inert. I still hear the creaking of the wheels of a cart in the corridor. A conversation between two women reaches me. They must have approached my bedroom door and now I can hear their voices moving away. I try to see them but it's impossible because I can't turn my head. he there is nothing to do. You just have to wait. Fix the ceiling. Listen to the noises coming from the hallway, the sound of a door opening, the jingling of objects that are placed on the shelf next to my bed. A hand comes to slip under my nape, while a seal is slipped between my lips. The pressure under my head is calm and gentle. A hand comes to rest on my forehead, the caress of a mother for her child.
As I become aware of my addiction, I appreciate a situation that has always seemed unlikely to me. I have always struggled never to depend on anyone, and here I am completely helpless. For the satisfaction of the least of my needs, I depend on others. Now, instead of causing me a panic reaction, this situation seems comfortable to me, and then I have difficulty breathing. Sadness begins to wash over me as I realize where I am find. I'm in a hospital, but it's not just any hospital. I'm in his hospital, probably in the emergency room. This situation is really far from cheering me. The void that was in my head is starting to fill up. These are not not the finely cut pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, but the few thin markers I grabbed to keep my drift away. I assemble with difficulty the fragments of my memory as if it were possible to find this being generated by infinity. I'm trying to figure out what's lying on that bed now. It is no longer truly a body, it is a spirit destined to suffer from an absence.
2 - He did it on purpose... I'm sure he did it on purpose. Another one who doesn't like bikers. I noticed the look he gave me when I was stopped at his height at the red light. When the light turned green it took off abruptly, screeching its tires. In actually I could have impressed him with my machine, but I had no taste for competition at the time. I let him go ahead. He did it on purpose, I'm sure.
As far as I can tell, my eyesight has not deteriorated. In any case, they did not consider it useful to put glasses on my nose. At the time of the accident, my glasses were in a pocket of my jacket, stored in a case. They must have said that I wasn't going to need it. They put me in the vegetable category. If I managed to open my mouth I might be able to claim them, but I can tell my jaw is blocked. My eyesight is intact. I must remember the points positive. The ones I have left. I didn't have good eyesight. It's neither worse nor better. My mouth is mushy. I brush my teeth every morning. Do they have something planned for this? I have the impression that this is a situation that risk of lasting. And then it may not be necessary. Since I can't move my jaw, they're probably using a hose. I saw that in the movies. Now it's my turn to smile at the camera. It'll be hard. I can't feel it role.
An inert package placed between two sheets, I went from the status of a comatose object to that of being conscious but powerless. Since I can barely turn my head, my horizon is limited. The sounds and voices that reach me are the only ingredients of my imaginary. In any case, one point is now established: she did not come to see me. It is all the more disturbing as the clinic in which I find myself is most certainly the one in which she practices. She does not work in the emergency room, she found in the neighboring ward, in intensive care. I haven't been operated on yet, so it makes sense that I'm not yet in his department. She always avoided getting involved in our relationship. She has always asserted her autonomy, an attitude that I found it unbearable. I could have made up my mind. After all, this relationship was not demanding since our agreement was based on sharing a few pleasant moments. It could have gone on for a long time. And then I got tired of these rites immutable, of these insurmountable fatigue, of these clock mechanisms. I could have just stopped coming to see her. It is not certain that she would have asked for me. We had defined the framework of our meetings in terms that allowed one like the other to assert an independent existence. She wanted to tell me that her submission to my fantasies was dictated only by pure kindness on her part, while it seemed obvious that she found some pleasure in his abandonment. A evening she declared that she did not want to receive me and that infuriated me. I questioned his dedication to his patients. I made fun of her existence as a nun. I left, slamming the door. Once again this way of submitting our meetings with the imperatives of his calendar had infuriated me. I harshly expressed my way of seeing things to him, but that was not enough to calm me down. After leaving her I started my motorbike and stormed off. Arriving on the west road I accelerated again. This is probably the reason why I had this accident. Here is a movement of anger that is costing me dearly and as I still haven't noticed her, I guess she is not prepared to lighten the bill.
3 - Olga... A CORRIGER
Olga tells me that she loves me and I know full well that she is wrong. I know Alice really loves me, she doesn't have to tell me. Alice has a way of dealing with me that makes all talk unnecessary. At Olga's excessive use of lies puzzles me. Olga tells me that she loves me and I want to believe her, when I know full well that she is lying to me. The truth is infinitely sad: what Olga likes about me is the image valued by his person that I send him back. It’s a strange affection, but it is very real. Olga knows what it really is, but she finds arrangements, she accommodates her sincerity, she could arguably say that we love each other on different bases. I know the smallest details of her body perfectly well and love her shapes passionately. I love his shapes, his postures and his smile. I ignore a mass of ignorance and ignorance. I would still like to be sure. The plastic qualities are undeniable. There are still some limits when we abandon undeniable aesthetic qualities to address the subtlety of reasoning and the extent of culture. This mechanism has a rudimentary functioning, based on a very elaborate practice of seduction. The trap she is setting for me is pretty crude. It’s pretty straightforward, and all the work is done on the surface. The esthete is fascinated but he refrains from exploring any further, as he knows that there is only a great void behind the beauties of the surface. My doubts about Olga’s sincerity remain present at all times. I know how much this relationship is superficial and I know it will take a lot to tear the veil to break a bad habit. How did I get there? In fact, I have no particular taste for multiple relationships. It happened that way.
4 - A head... His head appeared in my visual field. He is dressed in a white blouse and he wears glasses. He gives me a smile. Perhaps he finds the situation pleasing? I have the impression that he observes a new object of study. I make an effort desperate to open my mouth and assure him of my bad temper. Wasted effort. I only have my gaze to show what I'm feeling right now and I'm not sure if what it expresses the most is anger or distress.
- Hello ! I know you can hear me. I will carry out some tests on you. Anytime if you feel what I'm doing close your eyes. Do it now if you understand me.
Of course I understood. Obediently I blink my eyes. I see him grabbing one of my arms. I should feel the pressure of his fingers on my wrist but no signal reached my brain. Out of the corner of my eye I see him bustling about. I saw him grab hold of a metal object. Now he must pass it over my arm. I don't feel anything. He is watching me. I look away. I know there is fear in my eyes. It's a growing evidence, a winning terror: I'm screwed. I'm gonna become a bitch of a vegetable. His face comes back to dominate me. I couldn't stand the shadow of a smile. His gaze is serious.
`` We're going to change departments to do some X-rays. It seems to me that he put his hand on my shoulder. Is this a gesture to assure me of his support? He knows I can't smell anything.
A nurse entered. Without a word he proceeds to a few maneuvers. I am grateful to him for not speaking to me. He thus avoids the monologue. In fact my bed is movable. If the situation was not tragic I would have fun going from two to four wheels, and with driver in addition! I see his head over mine as he pushes my bed out into the hallway. He seems perfectly indifferent. For him, I represent an additional chore. It's a piece of furniture that he moves, for what I can to perceive, the room contains all the electronic equipment. People are agitated around me. Two medics moved me on a cart. I hear the sound of an electric motor and slowly enter a sort of tunnel. I see what it is. It must to be one of those devices that take photographs of my brain. It will give colorful photos like I've seen in the cinema. No relation to the dark colored magma that clutters my head. Either way they may well have me do whatever exams they want. I am no longer concerned. I'm screwed, paralyzed.
5 - Sit down!... She is certainly in this hospital and she must prepare to tear me apart at her leisure. She didn't say anything and it's much worse, she's preparing to make me suffer. I am at his mercy. She will be able to torture me and pass it off as dedication which will be relentlessness. It is only in sleep that it would be possible for me to escape the awareness of my state of being dependent. I have been awake for an indefinite time. Mind without a body, the fatigue I feel is the result of all these evidences that assailed my mind to state the evidence of my downfall. I regained consciousness. A light reaches me. I open my eyes. It works. My head is working. It is not sure that it allows good coordination of everything else. She at least has the merit of being there. As I am rather dizzy I often heard my mother tell me that I was going to forget her. I sometimes lost it for a pretty girl. It is there. I feel it all the more since it is the place of the consciousness of whatever is missing. I felt that there was commotion around me. We noticed my return to life. I hear footsteps receding. I hear a man's voice. A face appears. He wears a white blouse. - You were unwell. This is normal with all the medicines you have taken. Yet I can tell you that you are incredibly lucky. You will not remain paralyzed. He positioned radios on a screen.
- You are very lucky sir. You should be dead or at least quadriplegic Your spine should have broken severing the spinal cord at the same time, but you barely escaped it.
- What's the problem?
- Compression syndrome of the spinal cord. From what I've been told about the violence of the shock, you're doing pretty well. Sit down!
He laughs at me ? After all, he is a doctor. With considerable effort I manage to lift my shoulders off the pillow. It's fantastic!
- You'll get away with it. You will have to lie still for a week. Then you can start rehabilitation and within a month you will be fully recovered. You're doing well.
He has a beautiful smile, I find him stern. What's wrong with him? Does he think I deserve to get away with it? What can that do to him? Does he know her? He certainly knows all the nurses who work in this clinical. After all, I've learned very little about the people she sees in her professional environment. I found his profession intrusive enough, but I never expected to find myself in his service one day.
- For now, avoid getting agitated. You've received quite a shock. You need some rest.
In any case, my stomach hurts. The effort I made earlier to lift myself made my stomach ache. I don't think I've ever been so happy to feel pain. I become aware of my breath which lifts the sheets. I feel euphoric. I was able to lift myself up and my outlook on life changed dramatically when I saw the shape of my body under the sheets.