Silence and sun in the room.
Fata Morgana| N° d'inventaire | 23622 |
| Format | 14 x 21 |
| Détails | 68 p., paperback. |
| Publication | Saint-Clement-de-Rivière, 2018 |
| Etat | Nine |
| ISBN | 9782377920167 |
"Humble, all the same, I must be, more and more so, as I approach the inevitable, without making any progress in my effort to understand what happened between the three of us. Clarity is coming, that is certain, it penetrates me a little better each day, but it comes to me, not from me, nor from any person... I have blasphemed; it does not come from a person, but from the living Trinity. I have little time left to receive all this light, if even an abject weakness does not suddenly interrupt its arrival, and does not throw me back below what I have been for so long. The little root of the stone under the finger will perhaps explain itself, it must be given its chance, as well it is his own... He will return to it tomorrow. He knows very well how to put an end to these little bits of dream, like that, his hand dragging on the stone. He looked at the plant for a brief moment, it appeared to him, and an apparition needs no time. "It is autumn, a man observes and notes the survival of a plant caught between the cracks in the stones in the parapet of the Louis-Philippe Bridge, even though it is cleaned every year. He shares this observation with a couple, Paul and Denise, whom he has been following and observing for a long time. As if his life were entirely regulated by theirs. It is at the heart of the most total dispossession - as usual with Thomas - that the amazed feeling of a presence in the world will be born. Time in a new diffuse form is a fragment of eternity.
"Humble, all the same, I must be, more and more so, as I approach the inevitable, without making any progress in my effort to understand what happened between the three of us. Clarity is coming, that is certain, it penetrates me a little better each day, but it comes to me, not from me, nor from any person... I have blasphemed; it does not come from a person, but from the living Trinity. I have little time left to receive all this light, if even an abject weakness does not suddenly interrupt its arrival, and does not throw me back below what I have been for so long. The little root of the stone under the finger will perhaps explain itself, it must be given its chance, as well it is his own... He will return to it tomorrow. He knows very well how to put an end to these little bits of dream, like that, his hand dragging on the stone. He looked at the plant for a brief moment, it appeared to him, and an apparition needs no time. "It is autumn, a man observes and notes the survival of a plant caught between the cracks in the stones in the parapet of the Louis-Philippe Bridge, even though it is cleaned every year. He shares this observation with a couple, Paul and Denise, whom he has been following and observing for a long time. As if his life were entirely regulated by theirs. It is at the heart of the most total dispossession - as usual with Thomas - that the amazed feeling of a presence in the world will be born. Time in a new diffuse form is a fragment of eternity.