Profil

She rested her head against his and felt, for the first time, what she would often feel with him: a self-affection. He made her like herself. With him, she was at ease; her skin felt as though it was her right size. She told him how she very much wanted God to exist but feared He did not, how she worried that she should know what she wanted to do with her life but did not even know what she wanted to study at uni- versity. It seemed so natural, to talk to him about odd things. She had never done that before. The trust, so sudden and yet so complete, and the intimacy, frightened her. They had known nothing of each other only hours ago, and yet, there had been a knowledge shared between them in those moments before they danced, and now she could think only of all the things she yet wanted to tell him, wanted to do with him. The similarities in their lives became good omens: that they were both only children, their birthdays two days apart, and their hometowns in Anambra State. He was from Abba and she was from Umunnachi and the towns were minutes away from each other.

— Americanah de Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Page 61)

Elle passe dans la chambre. Toumas dort comme une souche. Quand il dort on ne voit plus qui il est, on ne voit plus que la beauté de ce corps innocent provisoirement déserté. Les corps, bousculés, tyrannisés par la volonté absurde et ennemie qui les anime. Où Toumas a-t-il traîné son corps cette nuit, pour quelle vilenie?

Elle s'allonge à côté de lui. Il est loin maintenant, très loin d'elle. Elle respire profondément, sentant le sommeil l'imbiber lentement de son philtre d'oubli.

«Mon pauvre Loun», pense-t-elle avant de sombrer.

— Grain d’hiver de Laurence Biberfeld (Page 73)