IMAGINATION BY ANTOINE BISSET

IMAGINATION BY ANTOINE BISSET

The day had started badly. I was going to find my darons in Charente-Maritime, which, in itself, was already a test. Some rejoice in this kind of pilgrimage. I guess it depends on the family we have. As far back as I can remember, I have always heard my parents arguing. And my father, when he was stiffly drunk, that is to say, almost every night, had an easy command.
My bac in my pocket, I left the village of PĂ©rigny to "go to Paris" to study. I had worked hard, both to win the competition of the flying school, and each vacancy, to pay me the luxury of a rapid emancipation. It had succeeded me. I lived with a roommate in a two-room in Montreuil. The girls came and went in our apartment. There was a parade. Sometimes I became attached, other times I gave them up because I did not know how to say no. I did not find it cool to hurt the girls.
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