This book has already been written by my mother down to the last line. While I am recopying it, here it goes and writes itself otherwise, moves away despite me from the maternal nudity, loses sanctity, and we can do nothing about it.

I decided to incrust into this construction that disobeys Maman some pages drawn from her saintly simplicity. The book par excellence would be full of books and of those magical photos that one sees come to life beneath the gaze of a passionate reader, it would open onto cities that would open onto other cities where my mother stayed. Most often one sees my mother holding onto me with the one hand and her cane with the other. Her face is raised toward me, she is consulting me with a shining gaze, I am smiling at her and she believes me. I am her maternal father.

And what if she had been as tall as me? Or taller?

This is not the book I wanted to write.

I do not write it.

It is my mother who dictated it this last year (2013), without wishing to, without her wanting to, without my wanting to. This year had begun in 1910, it was immense, supertemporal, and all the while I had a premonition that she would die, before the end.

1 July: unique day among all her other days where she will have been at once dead and alive. I was holding her in an embrace forever.

It is the first July without her, no, not without Ève.

1 July something invisible, inaudible, unreadable happened between us in the bedroom.

At that moment there was not time. An interval, without measure. Without schedule. Without advent. Without ad. Right before the without ève, without event.

That's where I want to stay.

I skip.

Today is right away already 12 July 2013.

13 July 2013

‘She always consoled me,’ I was thinking. And now that I no longer have her body to touch, now that for twelve days she has been taken away from me as if for an excessive forever, now that she no longer lives except in the heart of my soul, now that the word ‘Maman’ has become timid and orphan, will she be able to console me? Fears and sorrows camp out before the gate.