Sometimes writers are seen as artists, idea makers or just troublemakers. Nevertheless, it's very rare for us to remain indifferent in front of a text, because reading is the nature of man. This collection of short stories brings together only those that have taken part in literary competitions. They were all selected by the jury, which was made up of seasoned professionals. Participation was anonymous and very well organised. THE DAWN OF JACQUES: "On the duvet of the bed, a police uniform carefully wrapped in a protective cover waits patiently to be used. An old wooden briefcase crushes the carpet with its old-fashioned patterns. It juts just above the sheep's wool blanket with the Swiss cross. Jacques is already wearing his favourite leather gloves. He has also disinfected the entire bathroom with bleach after dyeing his hair raven black. His long hair makes him look like a hooligan. He glances out of the window again. She still hasn't come out. She usually goes running at this time of day. She's training for the Morat-Fribourg race." THE GAME: "My skin is tingling with the marks of age, as if I were lying on a nest of Amazonian ants. I've been feeling the difference between the new therapist and the old one for some time now. She must have changed her skin cream. I head to the pine wardrobe to complete the final preparations reserved for those of my rank. To be on the safe side, I take one last look at her and her baby, who is so calm. I've always loved these children as a midwife. They're so quiet and so friendly. They cling to you without ever looking you straight in the eye. They play with each other without arguing. They play with each other without making a fuss." ANNA'S TWO-FACED GAME: "I watch her without her knowing. Every day I watch her naked. Unclothed, her hair blowing in the wind, she does her hair. She is stunning. The beauty of this mysterious woman is rarely matched by another goddess of seduction. Perhaps she's my next-door neighbour's daughter, who wants to walk the stage in Lyon and Marseille? She's studying body language and ballet at a small provincial university." DUTY: "Out of necessity, I'm activating my departure. I rush through events with intelligence and discernment. I speed up decision-making so that nothing is forgotten. The death of a law enforcement officer often inflames public debates on national and departmental security issues. I have to slow down my heart rate. I begin to moderate my actions. I contain my anger and hatred towards today's bad luck. I lower my sails to control my stress. I know that the police are going to do everything they can to apprehend a so-called culprit and avenge one of their own." THE DEPTH OF THE SOUL: "Eventually, you start to remember some of the faces, then all of them. I immediately notice the tourists who have chosen a hotel on the outskirts or the young person who has started a job. Today, there are only regulars. They are sitting on the benches of the metro, scrawled with slogans, which links the working-class districts to the city centre. I like the city centre because there are so many charming little shops and boutiques." MY THOUGHTS: "I can't live without her because I need this relationship to last. I defy the wise men and their cautious search for a solution to our chaotic married life. She no longer believes in the word of men. She has lost her faith in humanity. Should I behave like a role model to bolster my credibility? Every time I think of her, I die of grief. She suffers from the moral and ethical acts committed against her. Are we not right to fear divine punishment for our destructive actions?"
