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Nocturne op.9 No.2 (Chopin)
Joline (Letters)
September 17, evening
In my dream, I walk on a strip of land covered with pebbles burying my feet and all around me, the tide is rising. At the end of this sandy shred that doesn’t want me, there is a lighthouse, white and red. At the top of the lighthouse, there is Alois. In the splendor of his youth, his face is brave and joyful. He waves at me and shouts : “Come on !” The surf slaps my back and throws me on my knees. I look behind and I see your shadow gesturing like crazy to make me turn and go ashore… I mean on the real land. But I stand up and move one more step forward. Then growling and foaming surf smashes on me from the right like a furious liquid beast. I am put down, taken, penetrated by a demon… I am a wandering bottle full o
