| He was in the seventh Heaven and honestly in such a sensual delight.
She was dancing on him and she was the woman of his life, not a woman but the woman.|
By the way they were laughing and sometimes she was moaning, he stood up, or she did.
Their love story seemed like endless, not that it was especially long, but beyond their acceptable intensity.
They were running in a one-way trip, without forecasting any return. Beyond trances something anxious was appearing. May all this be only a dream, wasn’t it real?
Like a response to the sudden heaviness that had striken them, they collapsed like a veil in an absent wind.
Quietly asleep, Jean opened his eyes. He listened to his wife’s breath. Did not Jésabelle breathe anymore? He decided not to pay any attention, and slid himself between the linen and his loving wife, and spread his arms on her fresh breast.
Something made him aware but he could not know why. Thus it was obvious. Jésabelle’s heart had stopped. Rapidly he moved from collapsed to panic-striken and the world swept down upon him.
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