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The book I’d love to read(but doesn’t exist)
By French Fred
I look for this book which is hidden at the heart of the city, as a neglected house.
Each of its pages hides treasures which wait to be woken.
We read it slowly, as when we walkwith precaution on a floor full of rainwater.
Its chapters hide secret passages towards hidden recesses of the univers.
Behind every word, the familiar voice of the author whispers us in the ear.