CHRONICLE – A signed photo of Mathilde Panot sat on the coffee table. On the wall, a deconstructed portrait of a man.
This article comes from “Figaro Magazine”
It was a December day, cold and gray. The streets sparkled with lights, garlands hung over the shopping streets. “Happy Holidays” could be read there. But it wasn’t happy. Nowhere in the public space was there any mention of the miracle of Christmas. The thought police had herded Jesus into his churches. The mayor of a small town in Provence was summoned to court for displaying a nativity scene in the courtyard of the town hall. The Human Rights League had taken legal action as if it were endangering the integrity of visitors.
Winston Smith, his PSG scarf around his neck, tried as he walked to avoid the cyclists who, like the LDH the divine child, seemed to be pursuing him. He longed to be home, even though he knew he wasn’t safe anywhere anymore. A few moments earlier, while walking past Sciences Po, a student wearing a keffiyeh had addressed him. He…
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Canada
