Epark his glasses, a mystery all the more annoying since two minutes ago they were there, you see each other again very well. Rewinding the mental film of the last two minutes and carefully examining the tape.
It’s that big cloud, too. He invited himself into the sky as everything rolled around. But as it started to get cold, you took off your glasses, then covered yourself. Worried about the changing weather, you checked your cell phone to keep up to date with the situation. Once the risk of showers has been calculated and swept away, you have taken advantage of being on your laptop to consult the latest e-mails received. The spam went straight to the trash, but a promo and info caught your attention.
Annoyed, but not resigned, you have awakened a dormant discussion between friends since last Wednesday. That’s when you lost track of your glasses.
On your browser installed by default, you began a search for each, accepting cookies by blowing to go faster to the proposed results. You read the first three lines that presented themselves on the subjects that had grabbed you, which ended up completing your budding interest in these questions. On your other, more professional, office colleagues were in triple axel in the endless exchange loops.
The afternoon had barely started when it already looked difficult. Annoyed, but not resigned, you have awakened a dormant discussion between friends since last Wednesday. That’s when you lost track of your glasses. Carried away by a vortex, you have drifted. Your attention to the world is lost in the maze of these 497 applications, always open.
The sun reappears and as if by magic your glasses resurface. You just had them on your head. They were lying around at the bottom of your bag, you had put them on the next table, whatever, they are now there and you have come back to yourself.
Leave Gérard Majax alone, he has nothing to do with it. Now, you leave the place reassured by tapping a reminder: “buy glasses cord”. Then you think back at the Blanche Gardin show, in his tender, worried and frontal way of talking about the chain of glasses. After a quick search, you toss the snippet, pull your sunglasses up on your head, and laugh. Three minutes pass, nothing goes, your hand touches your skull. The glasses are gone.
