The book I’d love to read(but doesn’t exist)

By French Fred

I look for this book which is hidden at the heart of the city, as a neglected house.

Each of its pages hides treasures which wait to be woken.

We read it slowly, as when we walkwith precaution on a floor full of rainwater.

Its chapters hide secret passages towards hidden recesses of the univers.

Behind every word, the familiar voice of the author whispers us in the ear.