The reflection of my face on the glass is painful to see.
With my wrinkled face and my Old Regime airs, I look like a specter emerging from a history book.
I wanted to see Paris again, which was the most intoxicating of my mistresses, and I jumped into one of your mechanical coaches launched at full speed.
The speed of this machine reminds me of my youth when I rode the roads of Europe in search of a woman, a job, an adventure.
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It's funny, in the wagon, everyone wears a mask, it feels like the carnival of Venice.
A young woman offers a promising cleavage.
I would suggest a part of three of a kind to her, but she taps these modern day harpsichords on a computer.
“Welcome to your TGV Inoui. I am Joël, your chef de bord, accompanied by Sophie, your barista. Hydroalcoholic gel is at your disposal. Wonderful trip! ”
This gibberish makes me laugh.
Thus, in the year of grace 2022, the Rousseauist cult of authenticity has dethroned respect, we do not take ...
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