Thank you for the Chiclets

The phone was too heavy so we didn't dare to reply, didn't care to answer, no matter who rings the bell. We threw the plug away and let the beast have its love story with the couch, then we drank a cup of gasoline and went back to work. The world has never been a place, it is a daily nightmare and we have to walk and shut up, everything left is our ability to see, to watch, to catch. Details are what drives us when all lights are red, when the moon shines black, when the pavement's wet. We babble and we bubble, chum and choke, and when bums go to bed, it means our eyes get closed. When the lids get heavy, we dream of pools, we dream of blue sparkling water filling empty glasses. We see waves, we do see them, do feel them. Like children, our mouth wide open, our sight stuck, we look at stones gone wild. Stones of today: Mica Arganaraz by Mario Testino, in a Vogue Paris that finally enjoys back its own flavour.