written by Alain Farah
transl. by Gabriel Kunst
Sometimes, one-armed people can count to ten without even using the toe. Anyway, he exceeds the dozen. No cheating in the right hemisphere.
Surgery knows the simple: Franklin’s got a toothache, remove his mouth, the cavity moves forward without journey. And his foot too is filling up with mechanics.
Aristotle and his scalpel. No more crisis, no more lighting effects. Except for the salad and its lemony taste.
Yellow, slow down.