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IN CRYSTAL CLEARANCE
The light blue color with a hint of purple is the bright color of a winter afternoon that falls quickly outside the window. I stood up. He mumbled his thanks and followed. Stepping out of the funeral home, I said "...come home, I'll drive you".
In the car, he was silent.
He stared blankly at the snow. White. Empty. Duplicate message white and blank. The silence suddenly turned horrifying. I said absently, "... the long season seems to never end, sir!". He was still silent. The car went down a slippery slope, down like an ice skate. With my foot on the goal, I blurted out " Shit !" [1], hand turning the steering wheel to the left of his house.
At the door, he hesitated, "Sleep here tonight. T.V. reports ice rain verglas, driving to Montréal could be dangerous...". Remembering Felicia, I nodded. Tomorrow is Saturday, a day off. I went into the house, opened the directory, looked for a Pizza, dialed the phone and ordered an all-dressed, 16-inch mix. He quietly brought out two glasses, poured scotch, poured soda in and pushed one towards me. I shook my head. He gulped, then stood up. He took the hammer, cut the wood and cut it into small pieces and put it in the fireplace. After finishing the fire, he sat down again, holding the glass I didn't drink, and said, "... alone, now alone!". Embarrassed, I looked at him. Putting the glass to his mouth, he drank again, then said emptyly, "...they both probably went to Heaven...".
I pictured her body in the coffin at the funeral home. Her capital was plump, the coffin had to be separate. Suffering from boulimie that makes her eat all the time, she must weigh more than a kilo. In the coffin, her body swelled up like a buche[3] covered with cream. The funeral home plastered and painted her lips, her red lips looked like cerises, often placed on the decoration of cheap cakes. He waved a bottle of scotch again. The doorbell rang. They must have delivered pizza. I stood up.
Cut the pizza, I said "Eat, don't eat and die!". He nodded, looking pitifully helpless. After eating, I lit the fire and asked "... Where do you let me sleep?". He just went upstairs, dazed "...that's Félicia's room [6] up there!". Up the ladder, I said to the bottom "... give me a break!", pushing the door of the room where I had once spent the night less than a year ago. Turning on the light, I looked around. Still. But missing, missing Felicia. The bed is next to the wall, the watercolor blue sheet spreads like the ocean. Next to it, a red au wood acajou bedside table. Still two photos. Pictured when Félicia finished high school, smiling brightly, her blond hair falling down her shoulders. Photo when Félicia graduated from university, hat with a red tassel, strict but gentle and beautiful like the statue of Our Lady in the cathedrals. I lay on the bed, reaching out to turn off the light. Right next to the ear is the sound of crystals touching each other. I closed my eyes. Someone whispered. I listen. Behind the crystal sound, somewhere there is a magical sound, not a human voice, not a music, a sound but stars shimmering in the color of the sun and carrying the wind. It's strange. Sound with color.

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