He spent a few hours since he was locked in his office ("I wish I could change color
furnishings, create a new image of comforting me, recover, retrieve ...")
Only a few hours.
yet felt strong the impression of a wait that had lasted for months. The expectation that someone, unknown and far away from him, finally reveal the next move, once and for all who decide their own fate, free forever from the paralysis of life, which had fallen, for years now.
But so long was that time of waiting for him to lose hope that someone other than himself could find an alternative route. Another. Again. Meanwhile
had come in, "her", Miss Hawk.
Here in front of his desk to ask again if they were finally got those ten minutes on their hands.
"Not yet, Miss Hawk. ... I'm not still waiting for Mr. Beatle to discuss an important issue."
"Okay, Fabre. I am sure will remember to call me as soon as free."
"Obviously, Miss Hawk. The sound strange, but I also have some interest in organizing to better our business together. ... And if it ever needs me again, use the intercom, thanks."
Every act of this woman had the power to dismiss and Fabre, with difficulty, refrained from expressing the obvious discomfort of his presence.
She bent her head slightly, unlined and had an artificial smile gone.
"My new secretary ... Bah ..."
they both knew what would be his role
... Just a question tormented him (and he wondered if he could pinch your temples even more trapped inside your head that doubt ): it was really the matter of She-eyelock the reason for this lack of confidence of the Government, suddenly became clear, so explicit as to place them between your feet a spy?
But it was not for that, or else, the unexpected presence of the Miss Hawk forced, after all these years, to review its strategy for survival Upcity.
nothing was served to target the most influential management positions in the palace HT preservation of that one track of himself that he had kept his name.
And nothing was served to leave his past in a dark corner.
She had left him to rot enough to hear only the smell.
"My name Fabre! Julien! "Wanted to scream Upcity and intercom on that stupid nosy. "I was Julien Fabre! I am Julien Fabre "
He wanted to take it all in one way or another.
He wanted to get away from that office and tell everything to that one person.
stories of those who first had to be French. What else there was out of that fucking dome. Tell her of Sophie. Tell her that he was capable of loving ...
account of that day.
Sophie, with her head resting on his bare chest, had whispered: "Forget the time, Julien, is the solution!"
And he had not understood. He did not understand anything, he mistakenly was limited to love it.
"Our love is timeless. Our love will live beyond this gray time, is not it? "
talk about his failure. Of that love died. Finished. Carried away by his vile hands.
tell this too and everything, everything he knew.
tell her secret of all the garbage that filled his head.
say, "Look, I'm tired of the silence, I'm tired of being alone! Play the things I was ... "
Fabre sprang up.
"No!"
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
could not miss her.
could not load one know that would kill her.
had to find a comfortable compromise, a clever alternative. Another. Again.
Only in this way ("Fabre, hush!") Mira could preserve the only living soul. Him did not care. Not anymore.
hid her eyes wet with heavy eyelids
"Miss Hawk, the meeting is postponed until tomorrow," the intercom announced, without leaving them time to reply.
So impatient, Fabre Beatle waiting for a meeting of paramount importance.
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