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Nela Rio 185 The Paralyzed Hour You asked me not to look at you when you left. I loved you more than my desire and I did not turn around. In the newspaper, the photo appeared on the third page. You were barefoot. You went off in search of the impossible and you attained it. They didn’t find any papers to identify you, but they knew who you were. I thought of the lightness of your steps and the strength of your convictions. I shuddered at the ferocity of a depraved practice. Three weeks later I left the country with the life that you gave to me. I carry on dying, with my eyes pressed shut, when I look through my window at a strange city. I ask myself if, when I open them, yours will be there and you will take me by the hand. I decide not to open them. And we smile together. Translated by Martine Gagnon ...

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