Light and demons

Modifié le : 2019/08/07

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.