A story ends ... We tell ourselves that life has everything to offer. It is said that today is an opportunity and we are building tomorrow. We look forward, and if the horizon is far away, you feel it will come, and you dream, dream ...
The past is cleaned of all its dross, given a present that kept them, then the dream takes a hit, and yesterday Yesterday, it was him, it was finally ... An illusory refuge, little consolation.
I finished the story, I had faith in the future and the future has come to start with nothing. If leave was hard, it was to get better. If one was to suffer to protect "my poor weak heart and my honor secret," the feeling of failure and have paid.
New year, new life, we forget.
Serres d'Auteuil, a tree, not as dead as it looks ... (November 25, 2008) 
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