What are all these? said Harlan. They’re books, said Blurtso. Books? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, I used the money I had left over from my school grant to publish my novel. Your novel? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, Blurtseau Lundif – Corsaire Extraordinaire. How many copies did you print? said Harlan. Only five thousand, said Blurtso.
Un, deux, trois… plié, fondu, developé.
“Ce n’est que votre main, Madame, sur quoi j’ose poser,
gage d’amour certain, Madame, vos doigts de blanc satin.
Il faut m’en excuser, Madame, doo doo dee doo dee doo dee,
j’ai mis dans le baiser mon âme, doo doo dee doo dee doo dee.”
“Ma main?” dit-elle. “Mais, je n’ai pas de main.”
What are those? said Alex. They are papers for my English class. Your English class? said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, the teacher showed us a book called, “Romans éclairs,” by Bernard Teyssèdre. It contains a series of one-paragraph novels. One-paragraph novels? said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, “roman” means “novel,” and “éclair” means “lightining,” therefore “lightning novel.” Would you like to hear my first one? I’d love to, said Alex.
“She looked at him because he was looking, and he looked back. Then she spoke when he wasn’t speaking, and he spoke back, and they both listened. Time stood still while it passed, and no one saw what they were seeing when he spoke and she spoke and they both listened. And no one heard what they were hearing when they were both hearing.”