In a part of town not too far from me, Steph is reading under the dim light of a lamp.
Later that night, I finally settled on the couch with a book, very close to the heat of the fireplace. I turned all the other lights off in my place and kept a dim light on. As I started reading and struggled to form the words in front of me, I heard the voice of my mother. She said: « Tu vas te briser les yeux � force de lire dans le noir, ma liseuse! »
She used to worry about my reading habits, claiming I would ruin my eyes. She would walk up to my reading spot and turn a lamp on, or get it closer to my book. More than the weak light, I think she worried about the fact that I was very, very far away, and she wanted to bring me back to her world, if only for a second.
Tonight, as I heard her voice, it was my turn to be glad she was back. For a second.
