"Rain is necessary, Julien. It clears the air."
Paradoxalement, c'est la période où l'on se sent le plus seul si l'on n'a pas de "plans". Voir les réseaux sociaux saturés de photos de vacances peut accentuer le sentiment de détresse. Transformer le Chagrin : Vers un Automne de Guérison l'été de tous les chagrins
For thirteen-year-old Julien, the heatwave of July 1988 was a personal insult. The sun was a relentless, mocking eye that refused to blink. It turned the damp cobblestones of the village square into blinding mirrors and baked the clay roofs until they cracked. The world was oversaturated, screaming with color—the violent pink of the hydrangeas, the blinding white of the limestone church, the unnatural, glittering blue of the sea. "Rain is necessary, Julien
The summer ended the next day. A cold mistral wind blew down from the Alps, scattering the last of the dead cicadas. As Chloé locked the farmhouse door for the last time, she looked back at the stone wall. The word Assez was already fading under the wind. Transformer le Chagrin : Vers un Automne de
"The heat?" Julien asked, his voice cracking.