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The world was to end the next day. You called me to say we’d be spending the night together. “Our first, and last,” I mused, but you’d already hung up. We stayed awake, sitting on the rocks in front of your beach house, waiting for the end, as if it were to rise slowly, like the sun.

Then, before daybreak, brushing me off, you jumped out towards the sea, leaping from one rock to the next, as though you’d done it a thousand times. That’s when the miracle happened: the tide came in towards you, calm and quiet, like it was yesterday.

Art by French author and illustrator, Vlou.


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