Dans la lune by Guy Yasko

I She is drawing the hermit from Led Zepplin IV in the margin of her dictée. The hermit’s lantern illuminates a forest of misplaced and forgotten accents. I stare at her legs. Her toe rise and fall with her pulse. I look at the clock on the wall and count. Fourteen times four is 56. Surprisingly low. II Paris Match: Mastroianni et Deneuve. Depardieu et Deneuve. Bardot et Deneuve. Une semaine avec Deneuve. Deneuve, Deneuve… III All details of my environment are gone. All i know is that i am warm. A voice calls my name: — Etienne, Etienne. Each syllable seems louder. — Etienne, s’il vous plaît, répondez à la question. — Umm…Je ne sais pas, Madame.

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