My story :

"In my youth, I used to be really busy. Picking huge shiny things here, putting them down there. From times to times, I crawled up the couch, to observe all this space I could nearly touch. And when I finally got at the top of it, I applauded myself and I laughed a lot, happy of coming out unscathed of that hazardous climbing when I could have fallen back many time on my journey up there.

Sometimes my uncle played guitar for me. He was a very talented musician. You’ve never met his like in the entire world. I could have stared at his hand forever for they were moving really fast and yet making such a nice melody. I even tried to play once but I found out it was much better from my point of view, sitting on the carpet with a bear and a monkey known as Bob-Bob-Boul.

My favourite time of the day was breakfast or lunch or snack or dinner. For some reasons that I’ve never really understood, everybody was watching me, miming sounds or making funny faces. So I looked back at them all and smiled, because it made them happy. What made me crossed though, was when somebody emptied half the spoon before me, just to taste if it wasn’t too hot, or too salted.

As a kid, I was very good at drawing. I pictured the world just as perfect as it was at that time. Clouds were round as oranges, the sky was a large blue rectangle at the top of my sheet, and people were so happy that their smiles were bigger than their face.

Then I became a grown up and at the age of six, I was much more mature.

My characters had only five fingers on each hand, the chimney stopped smoking when the sun was shining on my drawing, and people shrank so they fitted the size of the house. I learnt how to read ghost stories to Bob-Bob-Boul, so well that he sometimes started quaking when I wasn’t watching.

I also sang along when my uncle played guitar, and he was very pleased with it. However, it was less fun to have dinner because I had to carve the meat myself and I couldn’t avoid spinach on Thursdays.

But the good thing about being as responsible as we are at that age is that I could teach my new little brother everything I knew. I had much trouble making him understand that the grass couldn’t be red and that the sky was everywhere around in the drawing, but he really enjoyed playing with my toys in his own special way of putting them in his mouth and dribbling everywhere on them. When I was sad, he used to sit down next to me, grab my hand and look dolefully in the same direction as me without any word. If I was really upset, he even offered me his teddy bear, and it filled me with happiness.

I was very proud every time I made him laugh, by sticking my tongue up my nose, squinting or having the hiccups. Then he used to hug me and dribble on my shoulder, which meant thank you in a two year old’s language."

Maybe I read a bit too much of Winnie the Pooh, or I listened to my boyfriend speaking of his niece too much, but still, I think it changes of the whole "become a rockstar" thing, and it sometimes feels good :)

 <- I love Leon !