A new life

Second Flash: Laetitia

Laetitia a willing reader

She looked at her lover, certain of her little seductive effect...

- A new life" is an exotic novel!

Exotic?

Since he had met her, he still could not understand the logic that prevailed in each of his reasoning. She was a big fan of The Gonzo Man. She had read everything about him, and about him.

- My lover, do you know why you can't be sensitive to this kind of gait?

I know, I know, I know, I'm too formatted, I can't understand anything about this kind of storytelling.

She was beautiful, and played her charms without scruples to attack her intellectually.

- You cannot understand the literature because you are a forensic scientist. You practice analytical reading, you decorate the texts like a true scalpel maestro... You are probably the least well placed to talk about a work. You are a French teacher, you live under the permanent control of the institution for which you sold your artistic sensibility. And if The Gonzo Man bothers you, it's simply because it sends you back to your own inability to surpass who you are.

Adrien was out of it. It was always the same tune, as soon as Gonzo was involved, a deaf anger took hold of him. So much so that he came to apprehend the release of each of his novels.

The young woman was now looking at him with that little touch of arrogance that sometimes characterized the scent of her carelessness.

- My darling, The Gonzo Man produced this time a book made for me. I love what he writes. Look at the rigour of its construction, the composition of its paragraphs: twenty-one for each sequence! And then look, there! It's us! It's exotic though, this way of integrating the squabbling of its readers into its own narrative.

Adrien was a save-the-date. She had loved him for it. But The Gonzo Man was a Gonzo, a Gonzo in search of absolute perdition, and that's precisely what she loved about him...