13/09/2016

When I woke up in my brother’s bedroom in this September morning’s early hours, borrowing a bed as I stay with my parents in Paris, my hometown, for a few days, it struck me that today marks exactly 10 months since the attacks on the Bataclan and the Stade de France. In two months I will be amongst the grieving and the hurt, the angry and the sad, the touched and the depleted. In two months I will be amongst the crowd laying flowers for the fallen Place de la Répubique. And in slightly over two months I will be ‘celebrating’ a year since my life changed forever and I found myself lying in my own bedroom following faded figures on the wall, trying to figure out why emerging shadows kept whispering to me and hearing voices from inexistent beings. My fir...

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