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Like a cat

I saw his silhouette crossing the branches. He was backing away from me, working near what is probably the kitchen table. I stopped for a while, like a cat in love with the movement that takes place in front of him.

I asked myself a thousand questions in a few seconds. Questions or fantasies are difficult to define at this quantum speed. My only certainty is that I was able to see my existence frozen in the window, to observe another man.

I went back to making my bread, then concentrated on the door moldings that I figured.

This insistence on belonging to someone or possessing them… Like a cat?

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