death | Guy Verville
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Articles found containing the term “death” (10)

The death of the neighbor

As is often said, the streets of cities are veins whose rougher or less rough walls shelter the ants that we are. It is also said that the houses of the cities, although concomitant, are closed silos. Neighbors know each other very little, rarely say hello. — 2018/06/09

The old man with the missal

He must be 80 years old, his spine broken, weakly leaning against the train seat, his belly serving as a table on which he has secured with one hand a used missal, adorned with some paper clips that group pages. — 2013/12/15

Of the time we have left

Completed the reading of Illness, from Havi Carel. I had heard this woman in a news report on a rare orphan disease. As a young philosophy teacher, she believed she was in perfect health, master of her means, was athletic, and ate well. And then, suddenly, she ran out of breath. — 2012/12/05

Asking Germaine

Why don't you ask Germaine? — Excuse me? My sister Marie smiled at me. — Yes, ask Germaine! — 2012/11/21

Germaine

My father just told me the news. His century-old mother died last night at around 2:30. So she didn't want to face the hot summer weather. — 2012/07/03

The void

My novel is being read by benevolent souls. I'm taking my time to be patient. I have enough to do with a busy job, and I also have some other projects, including making my apartment a pleasant place to live. I'm even reading again. Not content with my reading left out (History of Pi too verbose), I turned to Sophie's World. — 2012/06/14

Their Daddy

One could easily believe, from reading these "promenades," that my days are an insistent ars moriendi. Yesterday was the second funeral of the year for us, my uncle, Bruno, past away, and there is so much to say. — 2012/03/19

Happiness destroyed

Hot against cold, spring tends to kill softly winter, morning fog acclimates our eyes as soon as they come out of the dark tunnels of the night. Tomorrow, I'm going to a funeral. One of my mother's brothers died after the inevitable fight against cancer. — 2012/03/17

The doctor who played the piano

He sits next to me at the choir rehearsal. He's a big guy from Central America, or from the South, I don't know anymore. He smiles at me; I ask him how he is. He takes the time to open his music bag, sighs, says to me in a sad voice as he shakes his head: "I lost a great friend this weekend." — 2012/02/03

Yin-yang

I swallowed the light. It was so brief, caught up in the clouds. It will come back since everything eventually comes back. In fact, tomorrow, the weather wizards are telling us. — 2011/12/16

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