[ Time…] The time to stop and look at life. Silence in the room. We don’t know where life takes us, so we keep quiet. Or we scream from the inside. A stream of light. Light that illuminates the back of an unnamed, faceless man. From the shadows comes his body, from the emptiness, his soul and this string that connects them. That’s how he moves, how he lives, how he dances… how he plays.
The diabolo rolls with a fast pace, changes direction, circles around him and goes back in the opposite direction. He’s running after it. The diabolo rises to never fall again. He looks at it from below, impassive. [Time…] He falls, motionless
© Copyrights 2018 Félix Martin – all rights reserved