She looked her on the mirror to see it only her own reflexion.
A mouth, eyes, cheekbone, hairs.
Aound ten, around hundred of people could can describe her face on only few secondes.
It is present in thousand of presspaper.
And yet, this smiley face that everybody see in her identity, seems unfamiliar to her.
When she plunged into haze of other, she alway can distinguish a specific ray which belong to this personne ; the spark life to this personne, the soul profil of this personne.
But in her eyes was empty.
Empty of herself.
Empty of identity because of all this time where she forçed to have another identity.
The irritating light of bulb of her mirror begans to wobble.
The room begans to be darker.
Her shadows approached...
Or was her own shadow which émancipated ? No.
It was an other breath.
That was an other thing. She fel it. She saw it.
Hangs get out of shadow to fix upon her shoulder.
Freezing and bloody hangs...
extract of my text that is on the website :http://caroline-mjc.skyrock.com/
If you want the original texte that is in French for translation.
July 2015
Vota adesso! 