Arms room of Montparnasse, on this Tuesday winter morning, Isabelle *, victim of incest, during the warm-up of a fencing workshop, is blindfolded.
Flashback.
She sees herself again as a granddaughter, in the same configuration.
Impossible to do the exercise, total blockage.
“
The fencing master asked me what I felt in my body: hot?
Cold?
What color?
He always brought me back to physical sensations, to my feelings.
Then he said to me, "Go ahead, touch my mask, harder and harder!"
I hit, cried, shouted.
“Your cry must come from below, from the belly
!
»
A cry, coming from the depths of herself, of an unimaginable power for her, then tears the immense hall of weapons.
“Afterwards, I felt much lighter.
Then I vomited.
And I understood that this desire for murder that crossed me, I had been carrying it around for thirty years.
»
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For Violette*, it was from the jump rope that the click came:
“Impossible to jump.
I remembered myself...
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