Sometimes, I go up the rue Tholozé, on the corner of the rue des Abbesses, to pass in front of the hôtel Marcel-Aymé, our vacation place and are the most convenient when it was open : at 300 meters from our apartment. These nights enchanted 18 and 19, where the Mound was agitated, if égosillait, is raised behind our windows open. A hotel is not a place, it is a time. Each morning, the rooms regain their virginity, to the contrary of their occupants. They have a wonderful faculty of forgetting what happened in them. We can’t be more than two customers in a store or u…
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