NEW PATCHWORK 15 / POLYMORPHIC LIFE IN SUMMER

7,95 €

Vie Polymorphe

Very good State

Fuchet, Serge-René

Binding: BrochéFormat: ln-8 = Size(Format) pupil's small exercise book: 20 in 25 cms Limited edition polymorphic Life, by Serge-René Fuchet, is appeared to the publishing(editions) of the Pantheon, to the Paris in 2001.

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We were lengthened on the sand. Our arms seemed flasks, our dead bodies. The salt water licked our feet and ventured up to the thigh. The sky seemed clear. An impressive silence reigned over this beach.

Suddenly, a crawling insect risked beginning a gratitude on its body. I woke up slowly, moved by the pleasant vision of the shape of its feminine body. I tried to get up but a pain stopped me. I had a headache, I was thirsty. So much salt water and no drinkable drop! How had I arrived there? Why was not I in the bungalow? Then the memory returned to me.

We had left for an aimless expedition really precise. The storm. Yes, I still remembered these atrocious minutes. I was wrinkled on the vermoulu wood. The hull had split. Then, we had caught a branch of tree resulting out of nowhere. We had had to strike a rock. But how we did not have been able to see this island while she.

I got up, manage to stand me. I made some steps. The map, the fisherman. The authorities of Tarawa had also been formal. There was no island, no atoll from Aurorae, it on a distance far too important to have been crossed(gone through) in three quarters of an hour! I believed to penetrate into the unreal, the dream.

How this island, because it was one, did she have been able to escape the geography? No, it was not possible. Nevertheless, this offshore journey, this expedition on the speedboat, I had made it. Unless... No, it was inconceivable. We were too much far from Aurorae. My throat was formed.

The voice of my friend came to put an end to my breathlessness of fear. Espéranza was there, next to me. We exchanged a glance. Espéranza looked at her watch: she had resisted. It was the proof that we had not really had to be far from the island.

I showed the gigantic coconut palms which surrounded the beach. We advanced unanimously and penetrated a kind of very narrow path trained by ramparts of interlaced plants. A clearing opened abruptly to us. Being afraid of misleading us, we turned back. The island was big, immense. Here is who still added to the unreal of the situation.

When we had returned on the beach, we had to face the evidence: the island was uninhabited by the man. There was certain number of animal species but no track of human presence, not the slightest construction of fortune. The island was completely subjected to the nature.

We so spent our first hours of solitude based on the warm sand, in front of the sea. That one held(retained) us prisoners. What a strange situation! However, we were not the only ones to have disappeared offshore. Although disturbing, ours would amaze hardly our contemporaries, moreover more worried by the current events

I struck the sand with rabies and resentment. My foot struck some pebble, then bled. I sat down again, looked for my handkerchief. I noticed at the same time as I had no more my knife. Then, I crawled up to the salt water and dipped the foot there. I sentai the salt be tormented the wound, to penetrate in the depths of the flesh. But my grandmother always said to me that it was a good healing product. However, I so had pain. Besides, I had lost my knife. I was plunged into the biggest confusion. Espéranza says word. She understood.

Suddenly, the young woman got up, made some steps, then decided to try only a new gratitude(recognition) in the surroundings. From my part, I had found nothing better than to look at the sea. I had this strange impression(printing) that a hostile atmosphere began to get free of these more and more shaken streams. It had been a long time since Espéranza had left. The love which I began to feel for her made quaiguiser this deaf person frightens.

I scrutinized of a worried eye impenetrable rampart of coconut palms and interlaced lianas. Suddenly, I perceived some smoke which escaped from the greenish mass. Then, I feared the worst. Decided, I advanced so-so in this sort of jungle. Guided by the volutes of smoke outlines of which became clearer little by little, I reached a source having hesitated for a long time between two paths. She made sink a crystal clear water. I could not resist to the temptation to drink some mouthfuls, so much I was thirsty. Then straightening me, I scrutinized the surroundings of an eye sharpened by the strange atmosphere which reigned at this precise moment.

Suddenly, my glance returning on rocks, I gave a cry of bewilderment. In the hollow of a cavity in the stone was my knife put on a small silk material scarlet. It was some blood, some dried blood, and there was a lot. My emotion was for its height. I felt an unspeakable fear. This pût-il whether it is the blood of my friend? I had then the bizarre feeling to live the loss of this blood. If it was good his, as I anticipated him(it), it was little as if it was mine which had poured. At the same time as the pain became more marked increased my love for my princess become the prey of some dark force and malefic.

I seize the knife with precaution then tried to estimate the distance which separated the cavity of the summit. I climbed the rock face with precaution, raised myself up to the summit, then looked, eyes were bothered by the sun. An immense luxuriant area of trees and creepers occupied the quasi-totality of the surface. But the rock was not high all the same enough so that I am capable of distinguishing the precise limits of this small plant empire. I wanted to distinguish again this smoke that I had just seen right now but there was nothing more. It is necessary to say that with the incident of the knife, I had lost a lot of time.

I got down again. I scrutinized the sky of a worried eye, being afraid that the sun not already couchät. But the day star always spread its heat. His(her,its) light produced reflections of emerald on the wave-like water. I had no more notion of time. And I met alone. No piece of short story of Espéranza and the sunset was not any more going to delay now.

Would they be condemned to live here? No, thought Espéranza, no. It was necessary to regain self-control, not to be allowed abandon(give up) in the discouragement or in the laziness which watches for everything to be isolated by the world. The risk of marginalization that would make them run(roam) in a inexorable way the passivity in front of an insoluble problem was too heavy. No, you should not resign itself, it was necessary to take out from there. But how? The night was already fallen, weakly lit by a small crescent moon.
 She( remained, based, sluggish there, knowing how to only make. She remembered itself these hours crossed to try to find this endless path with which " expedition of gratitude ", and then this source, and brutally this panic fear had begun his(her,its) who seized her. She began roaming, running, and stopped only out of breath, exhausted itself, plunged into the deepest exhaustion, holding out the hand towards her rescuer, whom she believed to see, such a hallucination. But I was not there and my absence was only increasing her love in the pain.

I released(left) a sigh, put my head on my knees, then observed the merry-go-round of some carrier insects of microscopic food. I remembered myself the moment of our meeting, in Europe, around of London. Very common, that one had nevertheless left in my memory an unforgettable memory. We had not confided our love yet, but the meeting had brought us to decide on this journey for the Pacific. Originally, I would have preferred that we stop in India, in Bombay. Moreover, we stayed there one week. But as we had time, she preferred to pursue our pleasant very far journey, up to the islands of the Pacific, there where the French colonists have some counters. I thus followed her, doubting me that its tourist interest was not deprived of some love for me.

Everything was quiet and dark. What arrived at me with my new friend called back me practically since her absence bothered me the disappearance of Elise Clermont in the last spring, in a public garden to Aubel. I did not see again her any more since, the door of its apartment of the placeAlbert I ° remaining irreparably closed in each of my attempts of visit. At the time of embarking for Bombay, the wearing tide was always without piece of short story of this reported missing person.

No, no, it was impossible that the fate is such as I vécusse a new disappearance without being able to make whatever it is. I had to put an end to the feelings which assailed me. I had no more notion of time but I knew that the night would soon be ended. I was a little going to sleep and from the sunrise, I would go back up on the rock to scrutinize the horizon. Espéranza would have certainly the idea to light a fire. I could so turn. Well then I shall find her.

Serge-René Fuchet

Writer