weather forecast

back to work. Trying to avoid silly jokes about Carla Bruni. In fact, things are getting better: I managed to spend a day without hearing about him. I heard whispers about yachts, top models and oil, but nothing but soft whispers, slippery whispers. I heard the wind surfing on the price we cost, us human beings, the heaviness we bear, when a stock-option is so light, so airy, so fluid.. I heard the rain tip toeing on my shoulders, going: you're not worse 1 per cent, not one per cent. i heard my courage going back and forth like a wave on a pebble beach, rage, rage, rage...