Her passion for insects went way back. She couldn’t even remember when she first became interested in them. Was it just a moment? It was probably a set of moments that had led to her loving these little bugs, as much as they were, useful to nature as they were. She loved them all, without exception. The people she frequented generally hated insects and found her strange because she loved them. There was nothing wrong with enjoying them! They couldn’t understand the joy she felt in studying them and sometimes helping them relocate somewhere in the case of endangered species.
She had a favorite insect. The ladybug. She knew everything there was to know about this small animal. About all kinds of ladybugs. But especially on the red one. Her good luck charm. Every time she saw one, it cheered her up. She was rather introverted, spending time only with insects. Her entourage reproached her enough. Her friends avoided insects, so they didn’t spend much time with her. And others thought she was weird. She was a bit of an outcast everywhere she went. Except, of course, in the bug shows where she could meet other bug enthusiasts.
But these enthusiasts were just passing through her life. They never stayed. She had never managed to hook up with them enough to do anything other than cross paths. It was sad, but true.
One day, while she was walking in the wilderness as she used to do, she saw someone there in the grass. A lonely figure sitting in the grass. Someone like her. She approached. The person turned around. Her long hair waving in the wind. She was holding an insect in her hand. A ladybug. They smiled at each other. Was this the beginning of a new chapter?
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The work of art was there. Placed right in the middle of the wall. Jealously guarded. Covered with different alarm systems. When visitors came to admire it, they sometimes stayed several hours to contemplate it, to comment on it, to take pictures (without flash, so as not to damage it) or to try to draw … Lire la suite Authenticity
French version He had been going around it for so long that he had forgotten when he started doing it. It was at that point. He was spinning in a space so small that he was practically spinning around. He kept seeing the same things over and over again, but that wasn’t the saddest part … Lire la suite Joker
French version Chained. He was in chains. Like a convict, like a criminal. Yet he had done nothing. He was sure of that. Why was he so sure? Why was he treated like that? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But the person who had done this to him didn’t know right from wrong. He … Lire la suite Chained
French version Once upon a time, there was a farmer who had fields in abundance. He kept expanding his property because the crops were always good. He had inherited the farm when his parents died, and since then the farm had flourished. He had hired more labor, bought the properties of several of his neighbors, … Lire la suite Gums
French version She looked at herself in the mirror. The slightest wrinkle always jumped out at her. She would then quickly cover it with makeup. She wasn’t old, though. And she knew it. But this world made her forget that fact. In this world, all the little flaws could be seen as the nose in … Lire la suite Outfit