One day I saw a building with no stairs.
The elevator was there.
This theme was imposed on me, at the beginning quite wisely.
Then, from each of my walks, an image was born.
Life is what happens to you when you’re busy doing something else.
In November 2016, my mother had a stroke.
His legs became amnesic.
The stairs literally broke down.
The elevator is an obligatory meeting she loved.
She shared that one-square-meter lock-up.
Between two ages and a few floors, a bit of freedom.
The word staircase remains only the music of the past…