[fr] Un vieux texte ressorti des brouillons.
A draft dating back from March 2010. Probably inspired by a dream.
Loud rhythmic music started drifting in the air, and the crowd on the festival river boats slowly went quiet. People stood up and started dancing and cheering.
I looked at Paul. We could feel the urge, but knew that giving in would only make it harder to resist what would come next.
Everyone sat down as the music went silent.
People looked at each other grimly. They knew that however strong the urge, they should not jump overboard.
In a flash, I noticed the group of children a few seats away.
“You! Come here right away!” I ordered.
A little bewildered, they came withing reach. People around me had understood, caught the children as they arrived, and sat them firmly in the seats next to them.
As for me, I grabbed two under each arm — two girls and two boys.
The girls didn’t budge, but the little boys started struggling and hitting me. I didn’t let go.
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