4 (french) Werber, Bernard

death, I forced myself to think very something very very sad
… of spinach leaves boiled, for example. Tears came
easily and it was nice to everyone.
Then I had a more direct contact with death. In fact: to
seven years, it was me who died. The event occurred in
February, on a beautiful clear day. It must be said that we
had had previously a very mild January and is very common
that a mild January succeeding February 1 very sunny.
5 - WHERE THE HERO DIES IN A ROW
Look out! - Woe … - “My God!” - Beware! Do not you see
that it will … - Noooo !!!!!! Long screech of brakes. And
muffled thud. I run. after my ball that had rolled on the floor
and bumper of the sports car I picked green just below
knees where the skin is more tender. My feet took off the
ground. I was catapulted into the sky.
The air whistled in my ears. I flew above the ground. A fresh
wind blew through my mouth open. Down there, further
down, the onlookers peered me, terrified.
A woman screamed when she saw me raise me. Blood
escaped from my pants, forming a puddle on the asphalt.
Everything happened in slow motion. I was flying at the roof,
watching the silhouettes flapping in the attic. For the first
time, then arises the question in my mind which obsessed
me so often afterwards: “But what I’m doing here? “