The chocolate bar

(direct quot from the short story)

La tablette de chocolat

It had been a long time since my friends Isabelle and Eric suggested me spending a few days in their farm in Normandy. Finally, I went this weekend there.

Welcomed as usual with open arms, Isa left me hardly the time to put my affairs in the room which was reserved for me, as she couldn’t wait to show me over the place.

When entering the kitchen, she would have loved that I am amazed by all which inside represented only heat, sweetness and comfort. Magnificent beams in the ceiling, big basins and diverse copper and pewter utensils here and there, on the plans of work or suspended above. The color stone floor fawn and an immense popular wooden table of ten chairs of the same material, could not either pass unnoticed.

However, instead of that, my glance was attracted at once by an enormous milked and hazelnuts chocolate bar, put – as by the biggest of the fates – on this magnificent table. In my big despair, I could not get it, because, it did not regrettably belong to me.

My urge for cocoa was at this moment, too strong. Then, I imagined myself – for lack of being able to make it really – enjoying, savoring this tablet. My nose was a few millimeters away from the horrible temptation. I smelt this boldly aroma titillate my nostrils. I breathed deeply this smell mixed in the other surrounding flavors…

The door of sand

(direct quot from the short story)

La porte ensablée

This short story received the first distinction in the section “Tales” in the Literary International Contest of Bordeaux, in 2001, organized by ARTS AND LETTERS OF FRANCE.

Then, abruptly, I was plunged into the darkness. My heart, seized with dismay, stopped beating a short moment, then burst out in my breast, until get away to me the breath. Best was to calm down, to think. Well, think. Especially not to panic, I thought. Where could I indeed be now? What was the last image which struck me, before this sudden blindness? Yes, there is it: That damned snake in two heads of course. I should have been more careful.

Nevertheless, I had seen him by walking on this girder ready to crack, so much it was old. Around it, walls filled with hieroglyphs, papered with chains, with strips of embalming, with flasks filled with liquids of various colors. He was waiting his prey, very wisely and lustfully hidden under a wooden safe chest…