A glimpse in the mirror to the entrance. More from habit than vanity. He goes out and shuts the heavy door of the townhouse they have offered long ago. Very long. Yet for them it was yesterday. While he carefully locked his wife was waiting near the car. Impatient. More from habit than necessity. He sends his kind smile. That smile that knows so well appeased. It creaks and he returns his. That of happiness. Intact. He opens the door, help to sit down and shut gently. As always. He sits in his lap and laid him a kiss. The car starts without a noise and the ride is broken only by their beating hearts pounding. They hold hands. As often. Their eyes meet and betray their common emotion. A few more miles ...
They finally arrive. In the underground parking. The elevator is broken. Two-storey climb. They have seen others. They begin to climb and soon they feel the feeling that their bodies will let them go at each step. But the excitement is greater. Stronger. Is holding hands, they finally have access to tier liberator. Few moments to catch their breath and they open the door. The ultimate rampart. Before them, a long corridor immaculate. Some distant cry. Moving forward, they look the look the numbers. 19 ... 20 ... 21 ... 22. There they stop. They try to contain their enthusiasm. The irresistible urge to open it. They strike in unison with their hands folded and accomplices. A soft voice inviting them to enter. As they were entering a chapel, they open slowly, almost on tiptoe. Noiselessly. They lay their eyes on voice their smiles now. Visibly tired but radiant happiness. Near her, a blonde head. Asleep. Peaceful. The man approaches with no velvet. Leans. He slides his finger between them, frail and microscopic, of the angel in blue layette. "How did you call? . Mom goes hand in her red hair. "Dad like you." Doubtful, he looked at the bracelet aphid s'humectèrent asleep and her eyes ... he saw his name in capital letters. STEPHANE.
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