Springtime

Paris, march 2011.

Springtime is a delight for scriptopolian people. As the nature awakes day after day, he looks away from writing for once. He pays attention to the small vegetable marks that announce the great transformation, to the light, to the birds singing, secretly dreaming of a peaceful life in the country. But then, in a staircase, he comes upon this notice, which also shows in its own way that springtime has come. Except that instead of the promises made by shoots and forsythias’ flowers, it traces an action from the past, an action neither known in its specific nature nor in its violence. It reads that law has passed, probably on the statutory date. And with a certain dread, the scriptopolian realizes that this sign does not only address people who would come in front of it in order to inform them about what happened here. Through the writing of a phone number ‘to recover your personal belongings’, it also speaks to the very ones who suffered the eviction. And who may not already know that springtime is here.