flashback: “Why you angry me?” I asked him on the first night he was back.
I was in my chair at the desk. He was sitting on the bed, legs spread and hands folded, propping up his chin. He wasn’t looking at me. He still had his coat and cap on, as if he wasn’t sure he was staying, or that I’d let him.
Je l'ai laissé réfléchir à sa réponse. Je voulais savoir pourquoi il avait Inscris-toi ici. Choisis une adhésion mensuelle, annuelle ou à vie.
Puis soutenir l'écriture risquée ici.