Since the Earth is bending a little too much, the days are getting shorter. People are moving in a city barely awake, and one would think that night has not yet fallen as their actions are so vivid and impatient. It seems that they have not fallen asleep, that they have not dreamed and, like kamikaze insects, are swirling around traffic lights.
The air and the sky are also waking up undecided. Snowflakes here and there, a sun veiled in grey, the whirling of tires crushing shimmering water, it’s another of those early mornings surrounded by zombie lights.
I walked for a long time, and at a quick pace, not because I’m in a hurry, but to start my day, too, to wake up my body completely. I walked the vast block of an STM sorting center (Crémazie, Saint-Laurent), came back through the quieter streets of my neighborhood. Forty-five minutes in all and everywhere.
It’s dark in the apartment. There’s only the screen to illuminate me. It looks like a billboard, a small altar of hope. Before writing these lines, I read the headlines on the Internet. They were full of demons.