“Have you found your accommodation for the three weeks we’ll be gone?” my mother asks.
It’s Sunday morning and we’re having breakfast on the terrace, taking advantage of the fact that the air isn’t too hot yet. I don’t care about her question because in truth, even though this family meal scene is worthy of a coffee commercial, I’m upset. Annoyed because a few meters from us, on the other side of a fence that doesn’t hide much, is Manon.
Manon who’s mowing his parents’ lawn.
Shirtless.
“Mmh mmh,” I answer my mother while spying on my neighbour behind my mug of tea.
He has no decency to do this in front of our eyes?
“Oh, yes? Where are you going?” my mother asks.
This is where I realize that I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Sorry?” I say, refocusing on her. “What was the qu
